


A Pair of Texas Rangers

by IdaArmindaMoss



Series: Let Him That Stole Steal No More [2]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones, Laredo
Genre: Christian content, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdaArmindaMoss/pseuds/IdaArmindaMoss
Summary: Arriving in Texas, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry find that they are wanted -- to help out the Texas Rangers.  Meanwhile, Heyes's personal life starts to become complicated in ways he had not imagined possible.





	1. Thanksgiving in Laredo

**Author's Note:**

> English spelling and hyphenation conventions follow those in use at the time of the story, as far as possible. Many features which we now think of as typically American did not actually come into common use until after the presidency of Theodore Roosevelt.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Curry and their party arrive in Laredo in time for Thanksgiving. The discussion with Captain Parmalee on the following day produces some surprises.

**Laredo, Texas, Wednesday, November 24th, 1880**

       Arriving in Laredo late in the afternoon of the 24th, the weary party took rooms at the well-appointed hotel catering for Anglo-American residents and visitors, cared for their horses, and retired for the night.  They had accomplished the final 720 miles of the journey in twelve days steady riding, with no further delays or unpleasant accidents.  To the surprise of Heyes and Curry, who had not given a thought to the celebration of Thanksgiving in years, they found themselves to be just in time for Thanksgiving dinner at the hotel on the following day.

       “I suppose we do have a lot to be thankful for,” Heyes commented as they seated themselves at one of the long tables.  “We’re here, we finished the job and got paid for it, and we’re not in jail.”  His partner nodded, too intent on helping himself to the roast turkey, freshly made breads, and other roasts, stews, and main dishes to answer aloud.

 

American frontier hotel menu, Thanksgiving 1883

       The hotel had created a family dining atmosphere for this one day, rather than offering smaller tables for individual parties as was usual.  As the weather was fine and sunny, two pairs of double doors at one side of the dining room had been flung open to the patio, creating more room for tables laden with food and drink.  Many of the town’s residents with backgrounds from English-speaking parts of the United States and territories had gathered to celebrate the American holiday together, including the entire contingent of Texas Rangers from Company B.

       To avoid complications, Wellington simply refrained from introducing the two outlaws by either their true names or their aliases, merely saying to those of the Rangers who enquired that two friends had accompanied them on the trip down from Colorado, and leaving it to Heyes and Kid to decide how much or how little to say in response to the friendly welcome offered them.

       The proclamation of President Hayes, designating the last Thursday of November as a national day of thanksgiving and prayer, was read aloud to the diners by the pastor of the newly built Methodist Episcopal church, together with an invitation to come to the special service of thanksgiving being held in the church at 6:00 p.m. that evening.  The priest of the much larger Catholic church, San Agustín, had scheduled an English-language service of Vespers to be held at the same time, to which all were invited, even those who were not Catholic, if they did not choose to go to the M. E. service.  

>      _By the President of the United States of America_
> 
> **A Proclamation**
> 
>           At no period in their history since the United States became a nation has this people had so abundant and so universal reasons for joy and gratitude at the favor of Almighty God or been subject to so profound an obligation to give thanks for His loving kindness and humbly to implore His continued care and protection.
> 
>           Health, wealth, and prosperity throughout all our borders; peace, honor, and friendship with all the world; firm and faithful adherence by the great body of our population to the principles of liberty and justice which have made our greatness as a nation, and to the wise institutions and strong frame of government and society which will perpetuate it--for all these let the thanks of a happy and united people, as with one voice, ascend in devout homage to the Giver of All Good.
> 
>           I therefore recommend that on Thursday, the 25th day of November next, the people meet in their respective places of worship to make their acknowledgments to Almighty God for His bounties and His protection and to offer to Him prayers for their continuance.
> 
>           In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.
> 
>           Done at the city of Washington, this 1st day of November, A.D. 1880, and of the Independence of the United States the one hundred and fifth.
> 
>           R.B. HAYES
> 
>           By the President:
> 
>           WM. M. EVARTS, _Secretary of State._

       When they returned to the hotel parlor to rest, after sampling every dish offered and, Heyes thought privately, probably eating far more than they needed, he looked up at the portrait of the current president which hung on the wall near the foot of the staircase.  “It’s been so long since Kid and I even thought about the government, unless it affects us, that I keep forgettin’ that the President is named after me,” he remarked with a cheerful, innocent smile. 

President Rutherford B. Hayes

        Kid Curry snorted with disdain.  Wellington looked up at the portrait.  “I think he’s a bit older than you, Heyes.  Perhaps he was named after your grandfather.” 

Heyes and the innocent smile

        His straight face and equally innocent tone caused the outlaw leader to do a quick double take, believing for a moment that the Englishman was serious.  Then Heyes saw the smile on Miss Wellington’s face.  “Oh.  Yeah, probably so.  Did you need us for anything this afternoon, Miss Wellington?”

       “No.  I don’t know about you, but I thought I would rest for a couple of hours before we go to the Methodist Episcopal church for the service of thanksgiving.  Unless you would rather go to the Catholic Vespers service?”

       Startled, Heyes exchanged a quick glance with his partner.  He had not, in fact, given any thought to attending either church service, but he realized, the way the matter had been put, that he had little choice in the matter.

       Kid smiled back at him wryly.  “It won’t hurt us,” he muttered under his breath.  Aloud, he added, “It don’t matter to us which one we go to, Miss Wellington.  Your choice.  I take it we’ll eat supper after the service.”

       “That’s what I had planned.  Paul?  The Vespers service?”

       “I was just thinking of that.  It’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to attend Vespers, whether Anglican or Catholic.  And since it’s to be in English, I take it our friends won’t mind?  It would be different, of course, if it were in Latin.”  Everyone nodded in agreement.  “Vespers it is, then.  We should meet here in the parlor at half-past five.  San Agustín is about a quarter of a mile away—you can see the spire of the tower if you step out in the street and look southeast.  It’s an easy walk.”

       “You two understand Latin?”  

       The twins looked at one another.  “We can read it well enough at a simple level, I suppose you might say,” Paul replied.  “I, at least, was required to pass a reading comprehension examination in it when I entered the University of Oxford for my first year of study.  Neither of us are Latin scholars, Heyes, if that’s what you’re asking.  I shouldn’t allow it to worry me, were I you.”

       Just as they were retrieving their room keys, they heard a crisp voice from the street entrance.  “Paul?  Miss Wellington?”  They turned to see Captain Parmalee crossing the lobby.  He nodded briefly to the two outlaws, then turned back to the twins.  “Since today’s Thanksgiving Day, and you’re probably tired and full of food, I won’t ask you to make your report until tomorrow.  I’d like to see you both in my office around nine.”

       “We’ll be there, Captain.”  Miss Wellington shot a quick look at their security escort.  “I’d like to bring Joshua and Thaddeus along.  They may have some things to add to the report that we might otherwise forget.  And—I’m sorry—we never introduced you.  This is Joshua Smith and his partner Thaddeus Jones.  Captain Parmalee of Ranger Company B.”

       The men shook hands with brief greetings.  “Of course.  And I’d like to thank you both for your help.”  The Ranger captain smiled at the two men.  “I know your job is done—maybe you weren’t thinking of sticking around much longer—but I’d like to talk to you about some of the things that happened on the trail.  Nine o’clock O.K. with you?”

       Heyes and Curry exchanged a quick glance.  “Sure, Captain, we’ll be there.”

       Watching the tall Ranger step through the big double doors and out into the street, Heyes turned to Paula.  “Why’d you say that?  We could’ve gotten along just fine without a formal interview with a captain of Texas Rangers—in his office, yet!”

       “It’s not a formal interview with you, only with us.  He wants to hear our report, and you’ll be given the opportunity to contribute anything you think we’ve left out.  As to why I suggested it, Paul and I want both of you there so you will hear exactly what we say, or do not say, to the captain about you.  Just so you won’t be wondering, and perhaps worrying.  You’re not wanted in Texas,” she continued, lowering her voice, “so you could introduce yourselves to him by your real names and it wouldn’t make any difference.  You’re in no danger here—not from the Rangers, at any rate.  I just wanted you to be sure of that.”

       Wellington added, “If you’ve noticed, we’ve taken care not to talk to him, or any of the Rangers, out of your hearing.  I’d like to keep it that way, so you’re satisfied we haven’t told him anything you’d rather not have talked about.” 

       He led the way upstairs and along the passageway to the three rooms they had taken.  “There is one thing you should know, and I should have mentioned it earlier.  Back in Ratón, after the marshal had been kind enough to put those two murderous blighters in jail, I told him that I was a Ranger, and that we had hired you—Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones—to escort us to Laredo on Ranger business.  He asked if we had any references for you, and I gave him the name you’d provided us with, Sheriff Lom Trevors.  Later the marshal came over to the hotel to take a complete statement from me.  He told me he’d heard from Captain Parmalee by telegraph, confirming everything I’d said.  So Parmalee knows that much about you.”

       “He knew that earlier,” objected Paula.  “I wired him from Colorado Springs that we’d hired two men to escort us, and mentioned their names.”

       “Yes.  I expect the marshal’s wire from Ratón just confirmed it.”

       “O.K.  Thanks for lettin’ us know,” replied Heyes.  “Just so there aren’t any surprises.”

       “Precisely.”  Wellington turned the key in the door of his room.  “Until this evening.” 

San Agustín, Laredo

        Vespers, Heyes discovered, was a structured service of prayers and Scripture readings, mostly from the Book of Psalms, with some of the passages being read aloud by everyone—the people on the left side of the church reading one verse, answered by the people on the right side of the church with the next one.  After the service was over, Wellington told him that the practice of reading the Psalms antiphonally was common to Morning Prayer and Vespers in both the Catholic and Anglican traditions.  Heyes made a mental note of the new word—antiphonally—and its pronunciation and meaning.  He took advantage of any opportunity to improve his vocabulary.

***   ***   ***

       “Kid?”  The two outlaws were in their hotel room getting ready for bed.  Even with the rest in the afternoon, it had been a very long day.  Neither of them felt like trying to find a poker game; Heyes was dubious that men would be playing cards tonight, anyway, after the entire English-speaking part of the town had made such an important matter of following President Hayes’s proclamation for the day.

       “Yeah?”

       “If Vespers is what Catholics call their evening prayer service, how come Sister Julia didn’t call it that?”  You remember, she invited us to join her and Sister Isabelle in ‘the fellowship of Evening Prayer’?”

       “I don’t know, Heyes.  I wondered that at the time.  I attended Episcopal services with Mama and Daddy Burnett, and Vespers is what they called an evening prayer service, too.  Maybe it’s because what Sister Julia was talking about wasn’t in a church building?”

       “I suppose.  Or maybe because there wasn’t a priest there.  I didn’t know the Burnetts were Episcopal.  You never said.”

       “Didn’t figure you wanted to know,” retorted his cousin.  “You could ask Miss Wellington tomorrow.  If she doesn’t know, bet she could find out for you.”

       “Yeah.  Come to think of it, we’ve never told them about Sister Julia, and they’d probably like to hear that story.”  Heyes pulled off his boots, shirt, and pants, and rolled into bed in his long handles.  “G’night.”

       “Night.”  Kid blew out the lamp.  After a few moments of silence, he spoke again.  “Heyes?  You worried about talkin’ to a Ranger captain in the morning?”

       “No, I’m not.  I believe Wellington when he promised not to tell anyone our real names without my say-so, and I think we can trust what they’ve told us, more ’n once, about the Rangers not caring about outlaws that aren’t wanted in Texas.  Besides, if we try to run now, it would attract attention, which is just what we don’t want.”

       “O.K.  Long as you trust them.  _I_ decided we could a while ago.”

       “Just because you sent off that letter to Miss O’More telling her she could write you here,” accused Heyes.

       “Yeah, there is that.  In fact, I’d better check at the post office on the way over to Parmalee’s office in the morning.  Maybe there’s a letter.”

       “Very likely.  Go to sleep.”

      

**Friday, November 26th**

       Looking up from his desk, Captain Parmalee greeted them with a cheerful ‘good morning’ and waved them all to seats.  “Coffee?” 

       They had had coffee with breakfast at the hotel, but Curry was always ready for more.  “Thanks, Captain.”  He and Heyes accepted cups.

       Parmalee smiled ruefully at the Wellingtons.  “I know you two don’t care for coffee, or for my efforts at tea-making, so I won’t offer.” 

Captain Edward Parmalee, Texas Ranger Co. B, Laredo, Texas

        “Now.  First of all, I’ve counted the money—here’s a receipt—and made arrangements for it to go where it was intended.  Part of that’s confidential, so I won’t go into it.  I have to thank you both for a job well done.  And I’m glad you recognized that the situation might be getting out of hand—enough to decide to hire an escort.  I know that was annoying for you.  And thanks to you two”—he nodded to the outlaws—“for accepting the job and carrying it through so well.  You’ve been paid?  No complaints?”

       “Our pleasure,” returned Heyes easily.  “And yes, we’ve been paid, including a very generous bonus that Wellington promised us if there was more trouble after we left Denver.  We certainly don’t have any complaints.”

       “So there was trouble before you even left Denver?  You’d better start at the beginning and fill me in.  I don’t need to hear everything, just what bears on the security of the money and the confidentiality of your mission.”

       Wellington began with the withdrawal of the cash from the bank and continued smoothly with a summary of the 23-day trip.  He mentioned the night attack outside Colorado Springs, the rock pushed down on them in Ratón Pass, and the decision to take the train part of the way after an early snow storm had immobilized the entire northeastern part of New Mexico.  Brief accounts of their escort’s success in dealing with the outlaws in Denver and Colorado Springs were included, together with a quick account of catching the men who had attacked them in Ratón Pass and turning them over to the town marshal. 

       Heyes had to admire the way it was done.  There was no hesitation, no hint that Smith and Jones were other than they seemed, and not the faintest reference to the fact that the men turned over to the New Mexico marshal had been bounty hunters.  If the Ranger captain accepted the report as it was made, he and Kid were safe enough.  He reckoned without Parmalee’s long experience in deciphering the meaning behind incomplete or misleading reports, and his uncanny ability to come up with contradictory information from other sources unknown to his Rangers.

       “Thank you; that’s perfectly clear.  Mr. Smith?  Mr. Jones?  Anything more to add?”

       The partners had offered a few additions and emendations while Wellington was speaking, but now they both shook their heads.  “I think that about covers it,” said Curry.

       “I’ll repeat what I said earlier.  The four of you did an excellent job, and the state of Texas is grateful.  I just have a few questions.”  Parmalee looked around at each face, then returned his gaze to Paul Wellington.  “It’s not the usual thing, here in Texas, to ask if a man used a different name somewhere else, even when he introduces himself as Smith or Jones.”

       Heyes stiffened.  It wasn’t going to be so easy, then.

       “But because this mission involved a confidential transfer of a considerable sum of money outside normal banking channels, and because you had so much trouble, I’m going to ask.  Wellington, did you know these men’s real names?”

       The Englishman didn’t blink.  “Not at the time I hired them; no, sir.”

       “That implies you discovered them later.”

       The twins looked at each other.  Miss Wellington glanced at Heyes, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.  “I knew their names, and I told Paul at the end of the first day out.”

       “I’d like to hear…,” the captain encouraged her.

       “No, sir.  We’ve promised to say no more.  They’re not wanted in Texas, so their true names shouldn’t be a matter that concerns the Rangers.”

       Parmalee digested this unexpected development.  “All right.  I can understand that.  If you were going to say that their names had nothing to do with the trouble you encountered on the road, though, even though they didn’t cause the trouble …”

       He paused.  No one said anything.

       Heyes hesitated.  He wasn’t going to let their new friends get into difficulties with their superior through an honorable attempt to keep the promises they had made.  “I suppose we …” he began.

       “Joshua,” interrupted Wellington, “we promised not to say, and we also promised you’d be safe here.  Sir, there’s no need …”

       Now Parmalee had a clearer picture of the situation.  The Wellingtons were attempting to fulfil an honorable obligation, probably because Smith and Jones had helped to save their lives and had risked their own in keeping the money safe.  He intervened, “No, as a matter of fact there isn’t.  You knew the Ratón marshal had wired me.”  Receiving a nod, he continued, “I take it he didn’t show you the contents of the telegraph he sent, or the one I sent back.”

       “No, he just told me everything was confirmed,” replied Paul, “and then took a written statement from me so he could hold those two men on charges of assault.  We were able to prove that they were responsible for the rock fall in the pass by checking the tracks of their boots, and their horses’ shoes, and then going back up to the site.  It was clear enough what had happened.”

       The captain nodded.  “Here’s the telegraph he sent me.”  He passed the yellow form to Miss Wellington, who handed it to her brother.  It was then passed to Smith, and Jones returned it.        

>        RATON N MEX            845AM           NOV 8 1880
> 
> CAPTAIN E PARMALEE
> 
>                         TEXAS RANGER COMPANY B LAREDO TEXAS
> 
> CONFIRM PAUL WELLINGTON WORKS FOR YOU STOP CONFIRM JOSHUA SMITH THADDEUS JONES HIRED AS SECURITY ESCORT ON RANGER BUSINESS STOP BOUNTY HUNTERS HERE CLAIM SMITH AND JONES ARE OUTLAWS HANNIBAL HEYES AND KID CURRY STOP REGARDS
> 
>                         G ELLIOT MARSHAL RATON N MEX               842AM

             The outlaws’ faces remained impassive, but Parmalee thought he could detect a slight tension as they saw their names written out in the telegraph from New Mexico.

       “And here’s a copy of my return wire.”  The second form was passed around.       

>        LAREDO TEX   900AM           NOV 8 1880
> 
> MARSHAL G ELLIOT                    
> 
>                         RATON N MEX
> 
> PAUL WELLINGTON AND SISTER BOTH WORKING FOR ME ON RANGER BUSINESS STOP AWARE JOSHUA SMITH THADDEUS JONES HIRED AS ESCORT DENVER TO LAREDO STOP ALREADY FOILED ROBBERY NEAR COLORADO SPRINGS STOP OF HIGHEST IMPORTANCE WELLINGTONS SMITH JONES REACH LAREDO WITH FUNDS THEY CARRY STOP SMITH AND JONES HAVE LAW ENFORCEMENT EXPERIENCE WERE RECOMMENDED BY SHERIFF STOP NO KNOWLEDGE OF BOUNTY HUNTERS CLAIM STOP KIND REGARDS
> 
>                                     E PARMALEE CAPT RANGER CO B LAREDO TEXAS           857AM

       “Of course, those bounty hunters could have been mistaken—that’s one of the many things wrong with that system.  I’ve seen good men killed because a bounty hunter was more interested in the reward than in the truth, or whether a capital crime had been committed.”  He waited, watching the two outlaws, but they said nothing.  “So I wrote to Sheriff Trevors in Porterville, Wyoming, since I’d already received a telegraph from him giving the two of you very good references.  I said the state of Texas had no interest in Hannibal Heyes or Kid Curry, who were not wanted here, but that I needed some more information because the two of you had inadvertently become involved in a confidential Ranger mission.  His reply arrived three days ago.  I’ll read parts of it to you.”  He drew an envelope from his desk drawer and unfolded the letter it contained.

       Heyes and Kid exchanged astonished glances, and Heyes gave an infinitesimal shrug before turning back to Parmalee with a bemused smile.  Apparently they weren’t going to be arrested any time soon—not here in Laredo, just as the Wellingtons had told them.  Whatever it contained, they could be sure that Lom’s letter would put them in a favorable light. 

       “We’d like to hear it, Captain.  We’ve known Lom Trevors a long time, and he’s been sheriff there in Porterville for almost five years now.  Whatever he said, you can be sure it’s honest and straightforward.”

       “He had very good things to say about you as well … ah, Mr. Heyes?”  It was quite clear to Parmalee, even on this very short acquaintance, which of the two men was accustomed to speak for the pair, and which was likely to be the leader; also, Smith’s description loosely matched the one for Hannibal Heyes on the wanted posters he had turned up earlier.

       “Yeah, I’m Heyes.  There’s no point in denying it now, is there?”

       “No point, and no need, either,” responded Parmalee.  “Nobody knows you down here.  I was trying to identify who those bounty hunters were talking about, and I finally remembered that your wanted posters were sent to me some time in ’seventy-nine.  I put them in an inactive file, because they’re of no concern to me or my men.”  He produced two folded papers.  “Here.  You can have them if you like.  You two were active mainly in Wyoming, weren’t you?”

       Both outlaws nodded.  Heyes took the flyers, not quite sure what they were going to do with them, and found, to his surprise, that Miss Wellington was twitching them gently out of his hands.  He allowed her to take them, resolving to ask her later why she wanted them.

       “And not even there for quite a while now, as far as I’ve been able to discover,” Parmalee went on, with a reassuring smile.  “Trevors’s letter bears that out—he says something here about talking to you in late 1879, and says you’ve gone straight since then.”

       “October of ’seventy-nine,” Kid confirmed.  “And, yeah, we have.  Our last train robbery was that month, and we’d given up robbing banks a few months earlier.  We realized that instead of taking money from rich, dishonest bankers, we might be hurtin’ poor folks, maybe small homesteaders, just like our folks were back in Kansas.”

       “I don’t want you thinkin’ we went straight because we thought it was a noble thing to do,” added Heyes.  “Things were just gettin’ too difficult—safes too good, telegraph lines going up everywhere, posses getting bigger, and lawmen generally smarter.  We thought we should quit while we were ahead.  Especially after our last job went really, really bad.  Nobody got hurt or anything like that,” he added hastily, seeing Parmalee’s eyebrows go up.  “It was my fault.  Bad planning.  Got our dynamite wet, couldn’t get the safe open, had little old lady passengers sympathizing and telling us we weren’t very good at this sort of thing, another passenger sayin’ we oughta find ourselves another line of work.  ‘Shame, eternal shame, and nothing but shame.’  That’s when we decided to go talk to Lom—we’d known him from ’way back and thought maybe he could advise us.”  He finished up this speech with a deprecating grin.

       Captain Parmalee had put up his hand to his mouth for a moment, as though to wipe coffee from his lips, but actually to hide a smile; he looked up with a serious face, having recognized the quotation.  “You read Shakespeare, Mr. Heyes?”

       “Yeah, some of it.  I really liked that one, _Henry the Fifth_ —don’t know why I remembered that line out of it, though.  And just call me Heyes—everybody does.  Unless one of your men walks in.  Then you’d better say ‘Smith’, if you don’t mind.”

       “Paul, would you mind taking a look upstairs to see if any of the men are around?  Heyes is right—parts of this conversation should remain between the five of us.”

       Wellington went quickly up the stairs to the left of the door into the street.  Taking a look around the barracks, he closed the door at the top of the stairs and returned to his seat.  “Nobody there, Captain.”

       “Good.  When I said to come at nine, I didn’t think any of them would be here.  The few who are in town are at the Ranger stables, getting things cleaned up for the day.  That’s unless they’re in the saloon.”

       “Captain?”  Heyes looked up at Parmalee, who had risen to pour out fresh coffee from the pot he had put on the stove earlier to perk, with an ingratiating smile.  “Could I ask why you wrote to Lom about us?  If you already had a good idea who we were, and I guess you’d already decided you weren’t gonna have us arrested when we got here …” 

 The ingratiating smile

        “No, certainly not.”  The Ranger captain refilled all three coffee mugs and resumed his seat.  “I wrote to Sheriff Trevors because I wanted to offer you both jobs—here, right now, in Company B.  I understand you’re probably not in a position to sign up for a three-year enlistment, though that option’s open if you’re interested, but I thought maybe you could give us your time, and the benefit of your expertise, just for a month or two on a temporary basis, like Mr. and Miss Wellington do every winter.” 

       Seeing that Heyes and Curry were bereft of speech, he took a swallow of the fresh hot coffee and went on.  “The fact is I’m short of men right now.  The company is under strength.  We should have fifteen men here, and right now we have twelve.  And I’ve got a couple of jobs coming up where I’ll need every man, and then some.  Especially men who can ride and shoot and, most important, think for themselves.  Trevors told me you had some law enforcement experience.  Can you tell me about that?”

       Heyes exchanged another quick look with his partner.  “Uh, yeah, sure.”  He looked at Kid again.  _Why on earth would Lom say that?_

       Kid’s soft drawl was in marked contrast to his partner’s intense, loquacious approach.  “We both worked for Lom as deputies, just after we went straight.  Just for a few days, really, but there’d been three bank robbery attempts while Lom was out of town.  The bank building was damaged, and he needed our help to stay on top of things until the bank’s holdings could be put in a safe place—well, really, until the bank owner came back from a business trip.  And since I’d already been helping the bank manager out, working as a security guard, it was easy enough to help Lom out for a while when he was short-handed.”

       Seeing that Parmalee was not going to comment, he continued.  “Then—oh, end of last spring—the sheriff in Big Bend, New Mexico deputized us to take two bank robbers his men had caught over to Junction City where they could be tried.[1]  On the way, we caught the other two of the gang.  Managed to turn all four of them over to the law.  Heyes helped the circuit judge recover the money from that bank robbery, too, usin’ some information he found out from talkin’ to those boys while we were bringing ’em in.”

       _That’s sure leaving a lot out_ , thought Heyes.  _Well, we can tell him the rest later, if he wants to know.  I suppose it would look good to say we helped catch a crooked sheriff_.  Aloud, he picked up where Kid had left off.  “There was one more time—kind of an odd situation.  I took a job as guide for a small party going up into the Medicine Bow Range in southern Wyoming, into the same area where my gang’s hideout was, as a matter of fact.  One of the men got himself murdered.  I helped another member of the party, who turned out to be a Scotland Yard detective from London, to solve the murder and pin the blame on the leader of our own party, rather than on the boys from my gang, which I suppose is where the killer wanted it put when he arranged a trip up into that area.  But those boys never killed anybody—and none of them would shoot a man in the back from ambush.  It made me mad, and I was determined to get to the bottom of the killing.  Detective-Sergeant Finney said I was a big help to him.  Kid was off on another job, transporting dynamite for a mining company.”

       “Did the Scotland Yard man know who you were?”  Parmalee was intrigued.

       “You know, I’m not sure,” replied Heyes.  “He did say something when he was leaving that gave me the idea he was kind of thinking about it, that he knew my name wasn’t Smith.  But he didn’t follow it up.  Later, when he looked me up to give me the money I’d been promised for the job, he still didn’t say anything.  Of course I didn’t push it.  He didn’t have any jurisdiction allowing him to arrest a Wyoming outlaw, but there was no sense in taking chances.  Two other times, Kid and I helped get the law onto a crooked banker, and one time we helped a friend of ours expose an investment broker who’d been embezzling from his own firm.  I think that’s about it.”

       “We cleared a man from a murder charge, too—helped the sheriff lay a trap for the real killer.  He had our wanted posters up in his office, too, but he never knew who we were, just that we helped him on that murder investigation,” supplied Kid.[2]  “So I guess Lom’s right—we do have some law enforcement experience.  I never thought about it that way.”

       “How would Sheriff Trevors know about all of those incidents?  They must have taken place over a period of several months.”

       “Well, I write to him, or send him a wire, almost every week,” Heyes explained.  “Just to let him know where we are and what we’re doing, in case he wants to find us, or anybody gets the idea they’ve seen us committing a crime.  My letters to Lom can prove where we were, and more important, where we weren’t.  His idea.”  Suddenly realizing he was coming too close to talking about the amnesty offer, which he did not have permission to do, he fell silent.

       Parmalee nodded thoughtfully, scanning the letter he held.  “It may interest you to know, gentlemen, that Sheriff Trevors lists every one of those incidents, and one or two you didn’t talk about.  His descriptions are a little different, and in most cases they contain more detail than you gave.  He does mention this reporting arrangement you just described, Heyes.  He also says he thinks you’d both do a very good job as Texas Rangers, even if you can’t stay here very long.  That’s about the best recommendation I could have asked for.  What do you say?  Will you take the jobs?”

       As they hesitated, the captain added, “I’d pay you by the week.  The pay is forty dollars a month, but we have ammunition stores you can draw from, and we’d cover your room and board at the hotel if you don’t choose to stay in the barracks, which I suspect you will prefer not to.  You supply your own horses, clothing, and guns, and you’d have to pay for the care of your own horses if you keep them in the livery stable rather than in the stable attached to our barracks.  You can think about it for a few days if you’d rather.”

       “I think the answer’s yes,” said Heyes, taking counsel of his partner with a quick glance as usual.  “We’ll take the jobs on that basis, and we’ll stay in the hotel, like you said.  I don’t know how long we can stay in Laredo—a few months, I hope.”

       Parmalee laid out forms to cover the temporary enlistment agreement.  “You can sign whichever names you please.  If you sign your real ones, I’ll keep these forms in the safe, just so you won’t have to worry about them falling into the wrong hands.  You can give the men any names you like.  Chad Cooper and three others of my best men will be back some time on Monday.  I’ll introduce you and they can show you around.  I don’t think I’ll need you until then.”  He smiled at the two outlaws.  “Cooper’s a fast draw, and from what Sheriff Trevors says here, I’d guess you can make that claim as well, Curry.  Having some competition in town will keep Cooper on his toes.  We have a shooting range set up in the alley behind our stable.  You’re welcome to practice there any time.”

       He collected the forms, had Paul Wellington sign them both as a witness, and put them aside to be stored in the safe, since his new Rangers had signed their names as Hannibal Heyes and Jedidiah Curry.  “Unless there’s something else any of you want to bring up, I’ll see you on Monday—three of you, anyway.  Miss Wellington, we won’t need you for a week or more, unless something special comes up.  Take your time and enjoy your visit to Laredo.”

        “Thank you.”  She rose, putting away her knitting and picking up her reticule, and waited while the men shook hands.  Heyes offered her his arm, and she and the two outlaws stepped into the street.  Wellington remained behind, saying he would see them later at the hotel and they could decide where to eat lunch.

      

       When the two of them were left alone, Captain Parmalee looked curiously at his British Ranger.  “Something else?”

       “Yes, sir.  It’s personal, not Ranger business.  I suppose you’ll be writing back to Sheriff Trevors?”  At the captain’s nod, he continued, “Then I wish you’d try to find out something for me.  I’m a trifle concerned for my sister.  Heyes won’t offer her insult—it’s not that I’m afraid for her to be alone with him or anything of that nature; besides, Curry or I have been chaperoning her all the way down here.  But you saw—”  He waved his hand toward the street door.  “He offered her his arm, and she took it without hesitation—and you know Paula.  She doesn’t accept an escort from just anyone, even if it’s only to walk the length of the street.  In fact, she’s not altogether keen on spending time in the company of any man.  But now …”  He stopped.

       “Yes, I see your point,” replied Parmalee.  “You want me to find out more about Heyes, besides what you already know, that he’s an outlaw who has gone straight, and that he’s still wanted by the law in Wyoming?”

       “I was thinking of something more specific than that.  Heyes has never said, though this morning he came close to it.  I think there’s some arrangement between those two and their friend Lom Trevors.  Heyes really does write to him every week.  I’ve seen him do it.  Some arrangement, perhaps, that requires him to correspond regularly with his friend, who just happens to be a Wyoming sheriff.”

       “I think I can answer your question right now.  It’s here, in Trevors’s letter.  He asks me to keep the matter confidential, as he was asked to do, but he also says that I may disclose it if there is need—the same condition that was placed on him by the governor of Wyoming Territory.  Heyes and Curry have been promised an amnesty by Governor Hoyt, he says here, but it’s conditioned upon their staying out of trouble for a year or two, proving they can do that and not give in to the temptation to return to the outlaw life.”  The captain looked up from the letter.  “He doesn’t give me details, but he says he will if I need more.  That tells you a fair amount about Heyes’s character, and his future prospects, I’d say.”

       “Yes.  Yes, it does.  Thank you, Captain.  And I’ll keep it to myself, except that I might tell Paula, if there’s a need.”

       “That’s understood.” 

       “And if I may offer advice, sir, I’d say you should tell Heyes and the Kid that you know about the amnesty arrangement.  It might induce them to trust you more, though you’ve done a lot there already.  They don’t trust very easily.”

       “Not surprising if they’ve been on the run for over a year.  They’d never feel quite safe.  You didn’t say how you knew them, or how Miss Wellington did.”

       “Oh.  To make a short story of it, we were passengers on a train through Wyoming in July of ’seventy-eight, the very day of the total solar eclipse.  Heyes and his gang held up the train just about an hour afterwards.  He told me that he had timed the hold-up so as to make sure his men got the opportunity to watch the eclipse, since it won’t occur again in our lifetimes—at least, not in that part of Wyoming.  I didn’t remember them—Curry had a moustache when I hired them, which changes his face quite a bit, and I don’t think I ever saw Heyes up close during the hold-up, but Paula did.  She remembered him, and guessed that his partner was Kid Curry, since they’re known to ride together.”  He chuckled.  “We didn’t want to worry them, or have them walk off the job too soon, since we really needed them, so we didn’t tell them right away that we knew their names.  It came out, more or less by accident, just north of Ratón, when we were ambushed by those bounty hunters.  Paula called out Heyes’s name as a warning; otherwise he’d have been hit by the rock they pushed down on us.  Then we had to have the whole matter out about how we knew them.  All went well until they discovered the Ranger badge in my saddlebag.  Things were a trifle tense for a while, but we sorted it out.”

       The two men parted company, and Paul Wellington set out to walk to the hotel, still worried about his sister, and somewhat disturbed in mind in consequence.

            

* * *

[1] q.v. the second-season episode “Jailbreak at Junction City,” which actually referred to a town of ‘Big Ben’, New Mexico—one presumes a reference to a location just north of the Big Bend area of west Texas.  The reference in the episode to the town being within easy reach of the McCreedy Ranch bears that out, since we know that McCreedy and Armendáriz live on opposite sides of the Rio Grande in an area where the river keeps changing course.  That puts the McCreedy Ranch just south of El Paso.

[2] q.v. the second-season episode “Something to Get Hung About.”


	2. Christmas Gifts and Courtship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Kid do a little work for the Texas Rangers. Kid is encouraged about his developing relationship with Miss O'More in Colorado, while Heyes takes steps to discourage the development of a warmer relationship with Miss Wellington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RKMacBride contributed the first portion of this chapter as co-author.

**Laredo, Texas, November 26th, 1880**

       “That was good,” remarked Hannibal Heyes, satisfied, as the waiter came and cleared the dishes away from their late second breakfast.

       “Yeah,” agreed his cousin, finishing the last of his coffee.  “What now?”

       “That kinda depends on what happens at the Ranger headquarters.  I’ve got some things to talk over with Parmalee.  I know we already signed those enlistment forms, but I suppose we can change our minds if we have to.”

       “Makes sense.  I’m still not real sure about that, but we did sign.  Need me there?”

       Heyes considered briefly, and shook his head as he folded up the napkin and laid it neatly on the table.  “Not especially.  Why?”

       The Kid shrugged, noncommittal.  “No reason.  But I want to walk around a little, take a look-see.”  He didn’t like being in a strange town and not knowing where anything was.  “Make sure there’s nothing going on that has anything to do with us.”

       “You worry too much, Kid.  Did I ever tell you that?”

       “Yep, you did.  And you like it when I worry.  You said that too.”

       His partner smiled.  “Suppose I did.  So, you go do your scouting around, and I’ll see you back here later.”

      

       An hour later, Kid Curry found himself walking down the main street in Laredo.  He had seen enough of the town to have an idea where most things were, and to get the lie of the land, as it were.  However, he had not told Heyes the real objective of his exploration, which was the Laredo post office.  He hoped that there was a letter waiting for him there from Miss O’More in Telluride, but if not—if she had changed her mind—he wanted to be alone when he found that out.

       “What can I do for you, sir?” asked the postmistress when his turn came.  “Do you need postage stamps?”

       “Not right now,” Kid answered.  “Just checking to see if there are any letters for me in General Delivery.  The name’s Jones,” he added.  “Thaddeus Jones.”

       “Yes, I think there is, at least one,” she said, turning to unlock and check the General Delivery box.  “That name rings a bell … yes, here.  There are two, actually.  Both from Telluride, Colorado?”  Her tone made the town’s name into a question, indicating that she had never heard of the place.

       That was encouraging news indeed—Lillian O’More _had_ written to him, not just once, but twice.  “Yes, ma’am, thank you.”  He signed for the two letters in the ledger where she showed him, and received the two envelopes.  One of them, written at the beginning of November just after they had accepted the job from the Wellingtons, was quite light as if it held but one sheet of paper, but the other one, written about a fortnight ago, was heavier.

       Kid walked out once more into the late-autumn sunlight, and found a nearby small café, where he took a corner table, ordered coffee, and then settled down to find out what Miss Lillian had to say.  He opened the first envelope, and started to read.      

_My esteemed friend, Mr. Jones,_

_I was so very pleased to receive your letter of the 4 th inst. from Denver.  What a great blessing that you and Mr. Smith were able to secure a position so quickly!  Even though it is a very long journey, I am confident that you will be able to carry out the assignment to your employer’s complete satisfaction. _

_All is well here, with nothing out of the ordinary.  We have had some snow flurries, but as yet no heavy snow, so all the roads remain open.  We have continued laying in plenty of supplies for the Rose from Placerville and surrounding towns, as is my custom, knowing that sooner or later we are likely to be snowed in for some days._

_I am praying daily, entreating Our Lord for journey mercies for you both, and for your employers as well.  May God guide and protect you on your travels and preserve you from harm and danger.  Wishing all success to you and a safe arrival._

_Yours very sincerely,_

_Lillian R. O’More (Miss)_

_Irish Rose Café_

_Telluride, Colo._

**Post Script** : _We, Susanne and I, are reasonably sure that none of those men from the Caldwell party are anywhere in the area.  Tommy, who is most vigilant, as you know, has reported no sign of them.  He also sends his greetings to you both._

_LRO_

       Kid nodded, reflecting as he read.  Miss Lillian’s letter was friendly and cordial, while being neither overly forward nor overly distant, he thought.  _But I never heard that phrase ‘journey mercies’ before.  Maybe Miss Wellington might know it._

He carefully placed Miss Lillian’s first letter back in its envelope, and turned his attention to the second one, again breaking the blue wax seal stamped with the design of a rose.  As he unfolded the sheets of paper, two smaller items fell out onto the table, followed by a third.  He peered into the envelope to see if there was anything else inside, and then read the letter.  He had signed his second letter to her with ‘Yours faithfully,’ as he had been taught, and ‘Thaddeus Jones,’ so he wondered what her greeting would be.      

_To my dear friend Thaddeus,_

_I have just received your most recent letter which you sent from the town of Ratón.  Such a peculiar name for a town, don’t you think?  As it happens, I am not at the Rose today, owing to my catching a cold, so Susanne sent one of the girls, Molly, to bring me the letter at home.  My, you have been having some excitement!  It is most providential that you were able to avoid being hurt, or worse, by those brigands you encountered upon the road.  I shall continue to pray that God keeps you all safe as you travel further.  Everyone here is well.  I fear there is nothing of great importance to tell you about, so I am sure you will find this note rather dull to read._

_We are all looking forward to Thanksgiving Day in a fortnight.  It is the Bancrofts’ usual custom to invite me for the holiday feast at their home, as they have no children or other family.  They also invite Mr. Bancroft’s law clerk, Charles Bell, and a widowed neighbor of theirs, so together we make a merry party._

_I look forward to hearing from you again soon, as it pleases me very much to know how you are getting on and I can imagine hearing your voice as I read your letters.  I will take the opportunity to wish you, and Joshua as well of course, a merry and joyful Christmas, just in case the mails are delayed in the coming weeks._

_Yours very sincerely,_

_Lillian R. O’More_

       “Well, I _think_ that’s good,” Kid murmured as he laid down the paper on the table, and considered both what she had said and the manner in which she had said it.  “Now, what are these things?”  He picked up the three small items that had been enclosed in the fold of the letter.  Two of them were small cards printed on pasteboard, about the size of a calling card, but one was clearly cut from a magazine.  One of the cards was a picture of a red carnation, with a label, “Carnation” in an ornate typeface.  Another was a similar picture card of a spray of purple lilacs, with no label.  The third was the most mysterious one; it was a picture of a rose, cut from a glossy-paged magazine, but the stem and leaves had been circled in ink while a carefully inked X had been written on the blossom itself.  He laid the three slips of paper on the table as if they had been dealt to him in a hand of cards, perplexed.  “It’s a secret code or something, but what it means, I got no idea,” Kid thought, frowning.  Still, there was something about this that rang a faint bell in his memory.

       Then it came to him.  Suddenly, he remembered one section in his little book of letter writing for gentlemen which had puzzled him at the time he had gotten it.  It was a long list in tiny print of names of flowers, with meanings for each one—it had made no sense to him when he saw it.  _How can a flower mean something?  It just is,_ he had thought a month ago when he bought the book.  But now he understood— it really was a code, a way to say something important without words.  _And people really use this, too, or there wouldn’t be cards ready-made for the purpose._   Kid looked again at the three flowers on the table in front of him, thinking.  _So these, the carnation and lilacs, must be used enough that they’re already made.  But this one must be unusual or something because she had to make it herself.  A rose, but just the leaves, not the flower.  Hmm._   The problem was, the little book was in the depths of his saddlebags back at the hotel, not with him.  _Have to look them up when I get back there_.

       Kid slipped the letter and the inserts back into the envelope, finished his coffee, and got up from the table, chuckling to himself as he put both envelopes in his inner jacket pocket.  _And here’s Heyes thinkin’ he knows everything about women … well, now I know somethin’ that he don’t._   As he went back out into the sunshine and began walking, an awful thought crossed his mind.  He remembered a few of the meanings in the list being things like, ‘I reject your proposal’, or ‘Deceit and perfidy.’  _What if she says one thing in the letter, to be polite, but the little cards mean something else?  No, Miss Lillie wouldn’t do that to me.  It’s not like her to be sneaky that way._   Deep in thought, he was headed back toward the hotel when he spied a lady in a familiar blue dress and hat just entering a shop a few doors ahead of him.  _There’s Miss Wellington,_ he thought _, doing a little shopping._ _She’s the one to ask about these flower things_.  As he drew closer, he saw that it was the general store, so she might be getting quite a lot of things, he surmised, and she might appreciate someone to carry them.  He arranged himself against the side of the building to wait.  It was not long, however, before she emerged from the general store, with one good-sized parcel tied up in string.  She looked surprised and pleased to see him, and willingly let him take the parcel from her.

       “Thank you, Kid,” she said, but quietly.

       “You’re very welcome,” he replied with a tip of his hat.  “I was just passing by when I saw you go in, thought you’d like a little help maybe.” 

       “It’s very kind of you.”  They walked for a few minutes, he on the side toward the street as was proper.  His manner, she noticed, seemed a little odd, as though he wanted to say something but hadn’t found the words.  Finally, he spoke up.  “Miss Wellington, I wondered if I could ask—if you could help me with something?”

       “Certainly, Thaddeus,” she answered with a smile.  “What would it be?” 

       “Well, it’s like this.  Miss Lillian—Miss O’More, that is—answered my letter …”

       “She did?  Oh, that’s wonderful!”

       He smiled.  “Yeah, it is.  But she did something I’m not sure about.  Do you know about a code, symbols, that are flowers?  Each one means something different?”

       Paula Wellington stopped and looked at him, eyes wide with surprise.  “Oh, my!  Miss O’More used flower language in her letter to you?”

       “Looks that way to me,” replied the Kid.  “She slipped ’em in with the letter, two little printed cards, and one picture from a magazine.”

       “How clever of her.  What are they?”

       “A carnation, some lilacs, and a rose—but not the rose, just the leaves.  Any of those that you know?  There are some of them in a book that I have, but probably not all of them.”

       “Gracious.  I haven’t even thought about these things in years, not since we left Britain.  _La langue des_ _fleurs_ was originally invented not for letters, but for composing bouquets, you see, that one carries or wears to an occasion, or has sent to someone.  A gentleman might wear certain flowers in his boutonnière to send a message, and a lady might put certain flowers in her bouquet or corsage to send messages to him.  And there are hidden messages in how she holds or carries a fan, too.”

       “You’re kidding me, right?”

       “Not at all.  What color is the carnation?  That makes a difference.”

       “Red.”

       She smiled.  “I do know that one, but I don’t care for red at all, so I have never used it myself.  It represents Affection.  The others I don’t know.”

       “Well, that’s a start.”  By this time they had almost reached the hotel, and could see the Ranger barracks nearby.  He returned her parcel, and touched his hat to her again.  “Thank you kindly.”

       “Don’t mention it.  Why don’t you check your little correspondence guide book and see if those are in there?  And I will try to remember if I knew any meanings for lilacs or rose leaves.  If not, there’s a stationer here a few streets over and they might have a different book.  As a last resort, I can wire the ranch.  There’s a book in our library that might have it.”

       When Kid reached their room in the hotel, he took the two envelopes from his pocket, and carefully tucked them away in the flat travelling writing kit he kept in his saddlebags.  He quickly slipped _The Gentleman’s Guide to Letter Writing_ out and flipped to the section with names of flowers, which he had earlier ignored.  Yes, Paula was right—Carnation, Red meant ‘Affection.’  Then he turned to ‘L’ and saw lavender, lemon, and some names he didn’t know.  But among them was ‘Lilac, purple.’  When he found it, he had to look twice to be sure, but there it was:  ‘First Feelings of Love.’

       “Well, what do you know?”  Kid Curry murmured, thoughtful.

***   ***   ***

       As the end of November approached, the two outlaws began to feel more comfortable with the idea of serving as Texas Rangers.  There were no badges to wear, so they weren’t scaring one another at every turn.  The other men of the company were friendly and welcoming, even after Chad Cooper had engaged in a friendly fast-draw competition with the newcomer—and had been beaten to the draw by just a hair.  Laughing, Cooper had announced his intention of practicing more often, challenging Jones to a return match in ten days.

       Heyes and Curry had fallen into the habit of dining with the Wellingtons at the hotel in the evenings.  All four of the party could not always be present, as much depended on the duties the men had been assigned, but they tried to make it a regular occurrence.

       A day or two after the conversation about the flower cards, Miss Wellington accepted Curry’s arm as she rose from the table.  Heyes was absent on this particular evening.  She nodded to her brother and indicated to Kid that they should take seats in the lobby.

       “About those flower cards—were you able to look them up?”

       “Yeah.  A red carnation means ‘Affection,’ like you said.  Purple lilacs …”  Here Kid stopped and blushed.  “I found it.  I suppose there’s no harm in you knowin’.  It said ‘First Feelings of Love.’  She really sent me that.  The rose leaves—I don’t know.”

       “Oh!  Kid, that’s marvellous!  And that explains the rose leaves.  I found the meaning listed in a book at the florist’s establishment.  It is ‘You May Hope.’  I’d say that was promising.”

       Kid swallowed.  “It sure is.  Thanks for finding that.  Then I can go ahead and send her something for Christmas.”  Seeing her look of surprise, he added, “I found a Zuni turquoise and silver bracelet in Santa Fe.  You don’t think it’s too soon?”

       “No.  With the encouragement she’s given you, a Christmas present would not be inappropriate.”  Involuntarily, Miss Wellington looked down at her knitting project, which was a pair of thick, warm, dark brown socks.  She wasn’t yet to the point where she would need to know the length of the foot.  When she got there, perhaps Kid would help out with that information, especially now that she had helped him.  She blushed at the very thought of asking, and reminded herself that it could wait—indeed, it must—probably until well after Christmas.  She knew Heyes was interested in her, but until he made some more definite sign, giving him something as personal as a pair of socks was out of the question.

***   ***   ***

       At Christmas-time, Heyes and Curry accepted an invitation to accompany the Wellingtons to church services for Christmas Eve.  Heyes slapped his partner on the shoulder as they dressed in their good clothes for the evening. 

       “Better than riding a hundred and fifty miles to go to church on Christmas Eve, like you used to do when we were still in Devil’s Hole.”[1]

       “Sure is.  And nobody’s chasin’ us, nobody knows who we are—and the ones who do know, we don’t have to worry about.”

       “A good Christmas,” Heyes agreed.  “I might even enjoy it myself.”

       “I was kinda wondering why you agreed to go to church.  You don’t usually pay much attention to Christmas.”

       Heyes shot him a look.  “No.  Not after our folks were killed.  You know that.  But, well, she asked me, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt me to go, and it would please her.”

       Kid Curry made no response to this astonishing remark.

      

**Near Laredo, Texas, Tuesday, January 4th, 1881**

Hannibal Heyes dismounted and turned to take the bridle of Miss Wellington’s horse while she did the same.  They settled down to eat their boxed lunches on the bank of a small stream which emptied into the Rio Grande a few miles away, shaded from the hot sun—even in January, the sun tended to be quite warm in this part of Texas—by the spreading branches of a cottonwood.  Heyes took a deep breath, hoping he had the courage to do what he must.  He was on the edge of forming a serious attachment, and it was possible that Miss Wellington was in a similar predicament.  The only thing to be done was to warn the lady away before their pleasant acquaintance turned into something more.  He knew she would draw back once she became aware of his true character.  “Paula, there’s something I want to tell you.”

       She looked up from her meal and fixed her gaze on his face, giving him all her attention.

       “You remember our talk about the very few folks who’ve refused to accept the rewards on Kid and me?  And I told you about the Jordan family, with two daughters?”

       “Yes, of course I recall.  I’d like to hear more about them.”

       “Well, I’m gonna tell you.  A little more, anyway.  Kid and I were bein’ chased by a pretty determined posse—they’d been after us for three days.  We abandoned our horses and got a ride in a wagon with Mrs. Jordan as she was coming back from a trip for supplies.  We didn’t tell her who we were or why we were on foot—we couldn’t, really, or she would have let us have it with her shotgun instead of giving us a lift.  I made up a good story, and we went back to the ranch with her.  She introduced us to her husband, who was laid up with a broken leg, and her two daughters, Bridget and Beth.  We did some ranch work for them, and they treated us real good, servin’ up home-cooked meals and lettin’ us eat with the family.  Kid even got into a shooting contest with the girls, who were both pretty good with their rifles.

       “Everything was fine until the posse showed up, just after sunrise two days later.  Mr. Jordan was pretty mad at me for having lied to him and put his family in danger.  He said they’d have to turn us over to the posse, even though he had no way of enforcing it, since we had our guns in our hands and he didn’t.”  Heyes remembered, with a twinge of guilt, the spark of fear he had seen in the rancher’s eyes at the time.  He shrugged, meeting his companion’s concerned gaze.  “So we agreed, but I managed to talk them into telling the posse that they were gonna claim the reward themselves.  After all, we’d rather they got it than that posse.  They weren’t very happy about it, but they finally agreed to accept the money.”

       “How?  How did you talk them into it?  If they were revolted at the idea, they wouldn’t have agreed that easily.”

       “Well …”  Heyes hesitated.  Best to get it over with now.  This revelation, and the other one he planned to give her in a few minutes, ought to do the trick.  Still, he dreaded seeing the warm interest in her eyes change to contempt.  “I said Kid and I could make a run for it out the back.  When Mrs. Jordan protested we’d get shot down, Kid reassured her that posses never could shoot straight.  I just added, ‘well, some do.’  Mr. Jordan agreed to what I wanted on the spot.”  He stopped to see what effect this would have, but Miss Wellington made no comment, except to nod.

       “The girls tied us up, and Mrs. Jordan called the sheriff in.  He and one of his deputies said they’d escort her to town that very day, so they could see us turned over to the sheriff in Buckton themselves.”  Heyes looked to make sure she was listening closely. 

       “They put us in the back of the wagon.  Mr. Jordan and the girls were standing on the porch to see us off.  I caught Bridget’s eye and said good-bye, asked her to write me a letter sometime.  Both of ’em started to cry.

       “Well, we hadn’t driven very far down the road before a rifle shot took the deputy’s hat off.  He and the sheriff took cover, while Kid and I dived off the wagon in the other direction.  We got each other untied, grabbed the sheriff’s horse, and got out of there fast.  Later, after we’d hopped a freight train, Kid said there wasn’t much doubt about who’d been doing the shooting.  He was worried about the girls. 

       “That’s all you need to know, really, except that the Jordans came out of it all right later.”

       She said, somewhat indignantly, “And you’re not going to tell me any more?”

       “No,” said Heyes.  “The Jordans came out all right.  The rest of it isn’t important.”

       “You’re going to make me ask Kid about what else happened?”

       “Yep.”  Heyes thought to himself that his partner, who knew him all too well, would not be likely to recount the story in such a way as to make either of them look like heroes, which they certainly were not. 

       “In that case, you can saddle my horse for me, and pack the lunch things onto the saddle, too,” she rejoined, with a slight snap.  “I’ll just wait until you’ve finished.”

       When he came to say the horses were ready and they should get started back to town, she stopped him with an upraised hand.  “Just a minute.  I’ve been thinking over what you said.  You say you knew the girls were crack shots?”

       Heyes grinned.  “They sure were—at least, I didn’t see Beth shoot, but I saw Bridget take Kid for a dollar.”

       “Then … you must have done that on purpose!”

       “Done what?”

       “Looked pathetic and asked them to write you, to work on their sympathies.  You _expected_ them to feel sorry for you and try to break you out of the hands of the law!  Heyes, you…!”

       “Scoundrel?  You’re quick, Paula.  It took Kid two days to figure out what I’d done.  And then he nearly hit me.  I’m kinda hopin’ you won’t do the same, but, well, I thought you oughta know, so you won’t think I’m some kind of a hero.  That, and the other thing about how I talked ’em into turning us in for the reward.”

       She was silent for a long time.  They mounted up and started back to Laredo and still she said nothing.  When she did speak, her first remark seemed to be a _non sequitur_.  “Heyes?  Why did Kid want to hit you?  Surely he must know—that is, he must be used to your brilliant ideas by now.”

       “He was shocked that I had manœuvred the girls and put them in danger.  I just kept saying, ‘Well, it worked, didn’t it?’ and remindin’ him that nobody got hurt or anything.”

       “Oh.  Yes, I can see how that might make him want to become violent.”

       After waiting in vain for her to follow up this remark, Heyes ventured, “And what are _you_ gonna do?  I guess I’d better cancel the plans we had to ride out tomorrow—that is, if Parmalee doesn’t have something for Kid and me in the morning.”

       “I plan to ask Kid for the rest of the story.  _I_ think you’re leaving something out.  But please don’t cancel our ride.  That is, unless you don’t _want_ to ride with me.”

       “Of course I want to ride with you.  I just thought you wouldn’t want to ride with _me_.”

       She looked down at her saddle horn.  “I’ve no objection.”

       As they rode into the outskirts of Laredo, he said, “You haven’t said what you think about what I told you.”

       “I think it sounds like a typical result of your quick thinking.  You wanted somebody to help you escape, and playing on the girls’ sympathies looked like it could work, so you tried it.  And it did work, as you pointed out to Kid.”

       “You think that makes it all right?”

       “No, I don’t.  It’s a good reason, not a good excuse.  But I wasn’t there, and I don’t know the whole story.”  She smiled at him.  “I can see you’re not a saint, if that’s what you wanted to make me understand.”

       He found himself at a loss for a few moments.  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow at half-past twelve, all right?”

***   ***   ***

       Finding Kid Curry relaxing at his ease on the front porch of the hotel, Miss Wellington stopped to speak to him.  “Hasn’t Captain Parmalee given you any work?”

       “Sure he has.  I’m workin’ right now.  Three of us are keepin’ an eye on the town today, particularly the bank, where they got a payroll in this morning that needs lookin’ after,” replied Curry, rising and touching his hat.

       “Please,” she said quickly, motioning to his chair and sitting down across from him as he resumed his seat.  “May I talk to you for a few minutes?  It won’t interfere with the work, will it?”

       “Shouldn’t,” he replied.  “In fact, you’ll make it look all innocent, plus givin’ the other fellows something to think about, how I managed to get you to sit down and keep me company.”  As she said nothing, he added, “You and Heyes have a good ride?”

       “Yes.  He told me a rather disturbing story—and then became something of an oyster and declared that if I wanted the rest of the details, I should ask you.  I got the impression he thinks you won’t tell me, either.”

       “Tell you what?”

       “Whatever he’s trying to hide.  It was about how you got to know the Jordan family.  He stopped at the point where you were worried about the girls, after their shooting had helped you escape from the sheriff who was taking you in.”

       “Oh?  You’d better fill me in on just what he told you.”

       Listening carefully as she recounted the story, Kid sighed inwardly.  He wondered how much to tell Miss Wellington, and decided that she was entitled to the truth.

       “Well, now, what he told you was true as far as it went.  There was one thing more he should have said, though.  When I said we should go back and check on the girls, because there wasn’t much doubt they were in trouble, Heyes said he didn’t think we should.  Nothin’ could happen to ’em—after all, they wouldn’t hang little girls, he said.  I was worried, and I let him see that.  Then, all of a sudden, he said we could come back in a month and check on ’em.  He tried to make me think that he’d been plannin’ all along to come back, but I’m not so sure.  I think maybe it was something I said, or the way I said it.”  He paused.  “That probably doesn’t give you a very good idea of him, but …”

       “On the contrary.  I think it’s extraordinarily interesting.  Clearly he values your good opinion.  Do, pray, go on.”

       “We went up to Denver and won a fair amount of money at one of the big casinos there.  About a month later, we got back to the Jordan ranch, real early in the morning.  They let us in and cooked us up a big breakfast.  Mrs. Jordan said we must have been ridin’ all night.  Heyes said we’d had pangs of conscience all the way.  Said we weren’t sure how much trouble we might have left them in.”

       Now, as he had expected, he had Miss Wellington’s complete attention.  “ _Heyes_ said that?  Go on.”

       “They told us the whole family had been arrested and charged with a long list of things, including attempted murder.  Mrs. Jordan said she knew we’d be back.  She kept trying to make us believe that things weren’t serious, that the law wouldn’t come down hard on her and the girls, but we could see Mr. Jordan thought different. 

       “Heyes said they should turn us in so we could clear Mrs. Jordan of the charge of conspiracy.  When she asked if we were willing, I had to say, no, not really—well, it was the truth—but then when she asked why we made the offer, Heyes admitted it was because we couldn’t think of anything better.  We were willing, just not very happy about it.” 

       Kid paused, thinking.  “Eventually we agreed to wait and see how things went for ’em in court.  Of course, that gave Heyes time to come up with one of his crazy ideas.  I put on my good suit and sat in the court room so I could see how the trial and sentencing went, while Heyes went over to the saloon and got himself arrested for bein’ drunk and disorderly.  He took the risk they wouldn’t search him after they took the gun he was shootin’ holes in the ceiling with—and they didn’t.

       “When the judge gave Mrs. Jordan a three-year prison sentence, I stood up and asked to testify for her.  They believed me when I said she had no idea what her daughters intended to do, and the judge set aside the verdict and let her go.  Then they put me in jail, and later that night Heyes busted us both out with the gun he had hid in his boot.  Everything worked out fine.  Oh, and we left a thousand dollars at their ranch house, so they could move to Denver like they wanted to do.  Heyes’s idea.” 

       He fell silent, scanning Miss Wellington’s face before taking a quick look up and down the street and exchanging a signal with Chad Cooper, leaning on the corner of the mercantile building some way down the street.

       “And you haven’t seen the family since?”

       “No, but I wrote to Mr. Jordan right after we got to Laredo, just to let them know where we were and how we were doin’, since I promised.  They may write back—at least, Beth or Bridget might.  I ’spect we’ll see ’em again sometime.”  He laughed.  “I think Miss O’More’s makin’ a letter writer out of me.  I sure appreciate the help you gave me with those flower cards in her letter.”

       “My pleasure.”  She rose, motioning to him to keep his seat.  “Let me know if I can help with anything else.”  She turned and entered the hotel, leaving him to continue his surveillance of the bank.

***   ***   ***

       Two streets away, Hannibal Heyes had spotted a group of men loitering near the entrance to a narrow alleyway between two buildings.  The alleyway led to an open space bordered by pens and sheds backing onto the businesses that lined the street, but it also provided access to the rear of the bank.  Moving slowly and casually, Heyes worked his way to the end of the street and eased up to where he had noticed one of the Rangers standing.

       “Riley?”

       The big man turned his head briefly and raised a hand in greeting.  “Smith.”

       “Might be nothin’ to worry about, but there’s a group of men down that way, right near a passage they could use to get to the rear of the bank.  They don’t seem to have any business there.”

       “Sounds interestin’.  Jones and Chad and I are watchin’ the front and sides.”  Quietly, his hand down at his side, Joe indicated the other two men.  “If you’ll take over here, I’ll just go check on those men you found.  We oughta be able to get the drop on ’em.”  Riley signalled to the others and then went in the direction Heyes had indicated, moving as silently as a cat.

      

       The loiterers were arrested without incident when they began to take positions near the rear windows of the bank.  The two men who were to have been responsible for the inside portion of the robbery were picked up at the front—one by Reese Bennett and Kid Curry as he approached the door, and the other by Erik Hunter from inside the bank lobby.  Joe, Chad, and Heyes, their guns drawn, escorted the larger group of prisoners to the Ranger station and locked them up.  They wouldn’t be able to hold them long, because they had made the arrests before any crime had transpired, but the payroll would be safe.

       “You’d think,” drawled Chad, “they’d have more sense than to try a daylight bank robbery when half the men of Company B are here in town.  Some folks just never learn.”

       Privately, Heyes agreed.  He caught his partner’s eye and shook his head.  This particular gang of would-be bank robbers didn’t seem to have thought things out very well.  Suddenly, he wondered if there had been a fall-back plan, timed to go into action while most of the Rangers were distracted.  Holstering his gun, he returned quickly to the bank and stepped into the lobby while Kid took a brief saunter around the perimeter of the building.  There was no sign of trouble.  Apparently the robbers really weren’t too bright, but Heyes knew it wouldn’t always be so easy.

       Kid mounted the steps to the boardwalk.  “Anything?”

       “No, not this time.” 

       “Makes you feel good, don’t it, Heyes?  Catching a bunch of bank robbers without firing a shot?  I guess we really can call ourselves a pair of Texas Rangers, like you keep sayin’.”

       Heyes was still watching the doors to the bank.  “Maybe we should hide out down here in Texas for a while.  After all, we’re gettin’ paid for it.  Come on, Kid.  I want to take another look inside.  I just don’t feel right about this, somehow.”

       Despite the former outlaw leader’s suspicions, nothing further developed requiring their attention.  Once they had seen the payroll money safely paid out to its owner and escorted out of town by armed guards, Kid led the way back to the hotel verandah.

       “Heyes, I want to ask you something.  Why’d you tell Miss Wellington only part of the story about the Jordans?  I filled her in on the rest of it, since you told her to ask me, but you could have done that yourself.”

         “I thought she should know a little more about me—what I’m capable of—that _doesn’t_ make me look so good.  There’s no denying I didn’t act right, Kid.  I’ll never forget the looks on the Jordans’ faces when they realized I was threatening to get the two of us shot down right in front of their daughters, if they didn’t do what I wanted.”

       “Yeah.  I’m just glad they never figured out what else you did, egging the girls on to bust us out of the hands of that sheriff.  But you told Miss Wellington about that, and then stopped.  Why?”

        “Kid, don’t you see?  We’ve got a nice pleasant friendship going—I just think it’d be better if it didn’t go any further.”

       Curry favored his partner with a long look, his eyebrows rising.  “It’s a little late for that.”

       Shaking his head, Heyes said quickly, “No, you’re wrong.  After all, nothing can possibly come of it.  She and her brother know who and what I am.  And now she knows a little more.”

       Kid opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it.  He had a nagging feeling that once again his partner had gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick entirely.  Mentally, Curry gave himself a shake.  Heyes was, after all, the thinker in their partnership—or at least he liked to fancy himself that way—and he knew Miss Wellington better than Curry did.  Probably he had done the right thing in letting her know the worst about himself.

      

* * *

 [1] See “In the Bleak Midwinter” by RKMacBride, <https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849483>


	3. Developments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kid Curry tries to help his partner, whose instincts about women don't seem to be as good as Heyes thought they were.

**Laredo, Texas, January 17th, 1881**

       In the livery stable, Kid Curry unsaddled his black bay gelding, rubbed the horse down with special attention to the sweated portions under the saddle blanket, forked some hay down for him, and prepared to head over to the saloon after letting Captain Parmalee know he had returned from his brief errand.  Miss Wellington and Heyes, he knew, would have returned from one of their frequent lunch-time rides some time ago, so he hoped to find his partner playing poker, even though it was still only early afternoon.

       To his surprise, he saw a movement at the end of the row of stalls, near the isolated large box stall where Miss Wellington’s stallion was kept.  Kid knew she preferred to look after the horse herself; saunter­ing down the alleyway, he intended to offer assistance with whatever she needed, swinging the heavy Western saddle up to its shoulder-high rack if Heyes had not already done that, or helping to move a bale of hay. 

  

        Approaching the stallion’s stall, Kid stopped suddenly.  He could hear her voice, but in­stead of talking to her horse as he would have expected, she appeared to be weeping.  As she stepped out of the stall to put away the dandy brush she had been using, he drew back hastily and slipped into the empty stall next door, unable to leave the stable or get out of earshot without be­ing seen and letting her know she had been overheard.  She entered the stall again and pressed her face against her horse’s shoulder, still weeping, and, Kid realized, praying aloud.  He felt more uncom­fortable than ever at his enforced eavesdropping.  As he listened in spite of himself, the words be­came clearer.

       “Lord, what am I going to do?  Help me!  Somehow please help me to know what to do, or … or at least to behave with dignity.  I know Paul warned me I should get hurt, and I was so calm about it … telling him it was probably too late to avoid that.  I knew there was a good chance that … _he_ … just wanted to be a friend, that there was no future in it….”  She caught her breath, sobbing qui­etly, and the unseen listener realized ‘he’ must refer to Heyes.  “But, Lord,” she went on, “I thought he was interested … that he was at least a little bit fond of me … all these weeks, taking the time and trouble to go for rides with me, take me to lunch … I suppose I was wrong.  I love him so much, dear heavenly Father, and he doesn’t care—not in that way.  I don’t want to expect something from him that he can’t give….”  The words faded as she muffled another sob against the stallion’s warm hide.  “I suppose it’s my fault, allowing myself to become too entangled with a man who’s just amusing himself with a little flirtation.  Oh, God, what do I do now?  I can’t even leave Laredo!”

       Curry had heard more than enough.  He only wanted an opportunity now to get away with­out being seen before going to find his partner.  As he waited, Miss Wellington slipped out of the stall, stepped out the back door of the stable, and bent to splash her face with water from the horse trough before blotting her eyes with her handkerchief and walk­ing away around the corner of the building.  Somewhat surprised to find himself breathing quickly, his heart beating faster from the anger that was consuming him, Kid walked back down the alleyway between the stalls and emerged from the front door of the stable, turning to cross the street to the Ranger office.

       Captain Parmalee looked up in surprise as the young man whom the men of Company B knew as Thaddeus Jones came in the front door and paused by his desk, untying the thong of his holster and unbuckling his gun belt.  The usually phlegmatic Jones, whom Parmalee knew to be the wanted outlaw and former train robber Jedidiah ‘Kid’ Curry, appeared to be disturbed about something.  Parmalee would almost have thought that he was very angry, had it not been that in the course of six and a half weeks, he had never seen Curry lose his temper.  He approved of an even temper in a man who could draw a gun as fast as he had seen the young gunfighter do.  Eve­ryone around him had a much better chance of staying alive and undamaged.  It had been one of the reasons he had been happy to offer Curry and his partner Hannibal Heyes temporary jobs over the winter, working with the Rangers in Company B—in addition to the obvious advantages, he reminded himself, of having a pair of retired bank and train robbers working on the side of the law, able to give the Rangers the benefit of their expertise.

       Curry put his rolled-up gun belt, with the Colt revolver still in the holster, carefully on the desk.  “Would you look after this for me for an hour or so, Captain?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice.  “And have you seen my partner?”

       “Of course,” replied Parmalee, concealing his astonishment.  “I think—” he altered the name he had been about to use, hearing movement in the barracks above which indicated one or more of the men might be able to overhear the conversation “—Smith is in the saloon playing poker.”

       “Thanks,” Curry replied shortly.  His anger was obvious now.  He swung around sharply and left by the front door.

       Coming down the stairs a few moments later, Ranger Joe Riley looked at his captain in sur­prise, his glance straying to the rolled-up gun belt.  “What’s eatin’ him, Cap’n?”

       “I don’t know.  But I wouldn’t like to be Joshua Smith right now.”  Parmalee saw Joe start for the door.  “Better stay out of it, Riley.”

       Joe nodded.  “Wouldn’t think of interferin’.”  Afraid of no man, the big Ranger still knew better than to get involved in another man’s private fight, especially when that man was as good with a gun as Jones was known to be.  Hoping to satisfy his curiosity, however, he drifted casually over to the saloon.

       Captain Parmalee looked up, hearing someone come in just as Riley was leaving.  Paul Wel­lington came into the Ranger office.

       “Wasn’t that Kid Curry who walked out of here a few minutes ago, not wearing his gun?”

       Parmalee looked a little amused.  “Yes, he left his gun with me to look after.  And he was ask­ing for his partner.  I told him I thought Heyes was in the saloon playing poker.”

       Neither man spoke for a moment, thinking of all the implications.  Then the captain said, “Was there something you wanted?”

       Looking a little worried, Paul nodded.  “I’ve been thinking that it would be better all round if my sister could get away from here for a while.  You wouldn’t have one of those special as­signments for her, by any chance?  A courier job, or something requiring fluent Spanish?” 

       Parmalee said, after a moment’s thought, “As a matter of fact, there’s something coming up in about four or five days.  I’m not sure of the exact date—it’ll depend on when the documents get here.  It’s a two-part job.  She’ll need to go to Mexico, and you’ll have to go to San Antonio.  After you’ve finished your business in San Antonio, you can head west and meet her on the road.  She’ll come back across the border at Eagle Pass.  I’m not sure I can spare a man to go with her, or to do your part of the job if you go with her.  The job’s not dangerous, but it does require someone who speaks fluent Spanish.”

       “Then I don’t have any objection to her going alone, and I doubt she’ll object.”  Wellington grimaced.  “It can’t be more dangerous to her than staying here.”

       The captain didn’t pretend to misunderstand.  “I don’t think Heyes would try to do her harm, such as forcing his attentions on her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

       “No, I don’t think he would, either.  But he’s done plenty of harm already.”

       Parmalee said nothing. 

       “Thank you, Captain.  Just let us know.”  Wellington touched his hat and left the office.

***   ***   ***

       Heyes had found a few kindred spirits in the saloon who didn’t object to a friendly game of draw in the middle of a weekday afternoon.  Naturally, no man could afford to spend a lot of val­uable time during a working day playing poker or any other game, but when he was not on busi­ness with the Rangers or spending time with Paula, Heyes had developed the habit of glancing into the saloon to see if a game offered.  After all, he had to keep his skills up.

       Looking at the full house of queens over deuces with which he hoped to win the current hand, he became aware of an inexplicably menacing presence behind him.  Glancing up quickly, he was surprised to see Kid Curry, looking very serious.

       “I’d like to have a word with you,” said his partner in a low voice.  “End of the hand will be fine.”

       Heyes nodded and turned his attention back to the game.  All discards had been made and the final round of betting was soon over.  As he had expected, his full house took the small pot.  He laid down his cards, gathered his winnings, and rose, nodding pleasantly to the other four men.  “Deal me out.”  They agreed amicably and went on with their game.

       Kid led the way toward the saloon’s back door.  “It’s kinda private.”  He opened the door, waited for Heyes to join him in the alley, and closed the door behind them both. 

      

       Joe lifted a finger to the bartender, who had also watched the friends’ exit through the back door.  The bartender came over, setting down a bottle of whiskey where Joe could reach it and ac­cepting a coin in return.  He shook his head.  “I don’t know, Joe.  Jones there seems to be peeved about something.  Them two’s always perfectly quiet and peaceable when they’re in here.  No trouble with the captain, is there?”

       “No,” Riley replied.  “He don’t have any idea what’s wrong, either—but somethin’ is.  Jones left his gun belt in the office.”  He downed the shot of whiskey and moved over to the window where he could watch the street.

      

       Before Heyes had any idea what was coming, his partner’s fist exploded against the left side of his face, knocking him off his feet and sending him head first into the wall of the building opposite.  Astonished, he stared up at Kid, who was now looking concerned and bending down to offer a hand.

       “Sorry,” said Kid.  “Hittin’ the wall wasn’t part of the deal.”

       “Would you mind explaining?” asked Heyes, cautiously feeling his head and finding that his hat had saved him from anything more serious than a bruise.  His cheekbone was another matter.  “I mean, I’d like to know what I did, or whatever’s got you so upset, before you do that again….”  He saw the blaze of anger in his cousin’s eyes and registered the surprising fact that he wasn’t wearing a gun.  _So he came looking for a fight on purpose!  What on earth is going on?_

       Jaw set hard, Curry said, in a tone not the less angry for being quiet, “It’s about what you’re doing to Paula—Miss Wellington, that is.  You’re hurting her, Heyes.  I didn’t think you had it in you to treat any woman the way you’ve been treating her.”  Now his voice was contemptuous.

       More bemused than ever, Heyes protested, “Hurting her?  I haven’t _done_ anything!”

       “I _know_.  The whole _town_ knows you haven’t done anything—except take her to lunch, take her out for rides, spend time with her—and then go on about your business like it don’t matter.  Like you don’t care.”

       “But I do care.”  Heyes paused.  “A lot.  I’ve never met a girl like her….”  He trailed off, realizing that this eminently sensible comment was not having the desired effect.  His jaw and cheekbone were starting to ache.  His partner was still looking like a thundercloud. 

       Exasperated, Kid retorted.  “Yeah?  I don’t believe it.  She loves you, Heyes, and you’re just … I don’t know _what_ you’re doin’.  Havin’ fun?  Flirting?  Just passin’ the time?  Does the phrase ‘leading her on’ mean anything to you?”  He stopped at the expression on his cousin’s face.

       “She _loves_ me?”

       “Yeah.  She loves you.  Don’t ask me how I know that,” Kid added hastily, remembering he couldn’t betray what he had overheard, “except that it’s kinda obvious, the way she looks at you, the way she looks when she’s with you.  Then, when you walk away, she looks unhappy, almost lost.  If I’d treated Lillian that way, back in Telluride, you’d have hit _me_ —that’s if one of her friends didn’t do it first.”

       “Loves me?  But I thought … I didn’t mean …” 

       Curry took a deep breath.  His first anger was dissipating in the face of his partner’s unmis­takable bewilderment.  “Come on.  Let’s go over to the hotel bar, where it’s a little more private, and I’ll buy you a beer.”

       Mystified but relieved, Heyes picked up his hat, matched strides with him and they crossed the street to the ho­tel together.

      

       Chad Cooper came up behind Joe at the front window of the saloon.  “What’s up, partner?”

 

       “Those two—Smith and Jones.”  Joe indicated the pair walking across the street, apparently in perfect amity as usual.  “Somethin’ funny going on.  Jones was right mad about somethin’, came in here lookin’ for his partner after leaving his gun and gun belt with the captain.  They went out in the alley together, and now look at ’em.  Close as ever.”

       Chad nodded.  “I never saw partners as tight as they are.  It makes it real nice, working with them.  You can count on ’em to back each other up, like they’re reading each other’s minds, and you can count on either one or both to back up any one of us without even stopping to think.  At least, that’s what I saw during that assignment the captain gave us last month up toward Santo Tomás, when they were along.  Of course,” he added, “their names can’t really be Smith and Jones.”

       “I figured that.  But this is Texas, Chad.  You know what they say about not askin’ a man what his name was somewheres else.”

       Cooper hummed a few bars of the song “What Was Your Name in the States?” and chuckled.  “Tell you one thing, though.  Whoever they are, Parmalee knows.”

       “Yep.  Figured that, too.”

       His smile fading, Chad frowned thoughtfully.  “Wonder if it’s anything to do with Miss Wel­lington?  You know, Joe, she won’t have anything to say to me, or Erik—even though she and her brother bought horses from his father over in Holland, and she’s known him for years—or any of us here, except in the way of friendship, but I’ve never seen her act like she’s do­ing now, or look at a man like she looks at Smith when she thinks no one’s watching.  And he’s paying her plenty of attention, but he’s awful casual about it.  I don’t like that.”

       “It’s up to Wellington to do something,” Joe reminded him.  “And he hasn’t.  Yet.”

       “Yeah, well, I might not wait too much longer.  At least maybe I could talk to her—see if there’s something I can do, just as a friend.”

       “Yeah.  Don’t forget Smith’s partner can out-draw you—you and every other man in town.  Just watch yourself.”

       “Always do.”  Chad smiled.  “No way I’d let it go as far as a gunfight.  But there must be something I can do.”

***   ***   ***

       The hotel barkeep, having supplied Heyes and Curry with mugs of beer, came over to their small corner table unasked, handing Heyes a handful of chips of ice wrapped in a dish towel.  Leaving, the man nodded to Kid, giving him a thumbs-up gesture of approval which was not lost on Heyes.

       Carefully nestling the ice pack against the rapidly reddening contusion on his face, Heyes took a swallow of his beer and looked at Kid, aggrieved.  “Does everybody know what’s going on except me?  What’s he congratulating you for?”

        “Probably for pastin’ you one.  Everybody here knows Miss Wellington, Heyes.  She and her brother’ve been coming down here in the winters for about five years now.  They’re all worried about her.  Maybe you’re lucky it was me who came to find you and not Joe Riley.  He’s got about eighty pounds on you, and it’s all muscle—they’d be picking up pieces of you all over the street.” 

       Heyes looked a little alarmed.  “Riley’s been watching me?”

       “Oh, yeah.  And Cooper, and Hunter, and even Bennett, I think.  And the captain, and a couple of the other Rangers, and the folks here at the hotel, and over at the café, and the livery stableman.”  Kid took a good pull at his beer and set down the mug.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have hit you, especially without warnin’ you first.  But you’re supposed to be the clever one.  It never occurred to me you had no idea what you were doing.  That’s why I suggested the beer.  We need to talk.”

       Shifting the position of the ice pack, Heyes suggested tentatively, “Couldn’t we have started with the beer and the talk, and skipped the punch in the face?  I’m not hard to talk to.”

       “Yeah, but you don’t listen so good.  All right, I said I was sorry.  But I was pretty mad.”

       “I noticed that.  But why, Kid?”  He put up his free hand hastily as he saw a renewed flash of anger in his partner’s eyes.  “No, don’t hit me.  I’d rather have an explanation.  Just pretend I’m stupid.”  He smiled as engagingly as he was able.

       _Leave it to Heyes to make me laugh, even over this, which isn’t funny_.  Aloud, Kid said, a little sourly, “I don’t have to pretend that, do I?  Come on, Heyes, can’t you understand?  She really loves you.  Take my word for it.  And all you can think of to do is, well, treat it like a casual flirtation, or like you’re just toying with her—at least, that’s what it looks like.  Only she don’t know how to flirt.”

       An unwilling laugh was dragged out of Heyes.  “No, that’s true.  I hadn’t thought about it like that.  But I wasn’t, well, _flirting_ … I lo … like her.  I really like her.  I enjoy being with her.  She’s like no other woman I’ve ever known.”

       “And?” 

       This time Heyes did not misunderstand.  “And I can’t do anything.  You know that.  Even if I was in a position to be able to ask a good woman to marry me, which I’m not, what with us still being wanted and all … well, it’s impossible.”

       “Why?”

       “Because she’d turn me down, of course.  Don’t be an idiot,” replied Heyes, a little irritated.  “And that’s not even thinkin’ about what her brother would say.”

       Curry stared at his partner in affectionate exasperation.  “Of all the stupid … Seems to me _I’m_ not the one bein’ an idiot.  And I suppose it never occurred to you that she might think different?  That all the encouragement she’s been givin’ you might mean something?  We’ve been in town, here where there are men who’ve known her for years, long enough to know she don’t encourage men to flirt with her, or pay her any special attention.  She’s more likely to snub ’em hard if they try anything, the way Erik Hunter tells it.”  He finished his beer and set the mug down hard.

       “Remember what you said to me, ’way back in ’seventy-nine, in Porterville, while we were waiting for Lom to come back from Cheyenne?  Something we ain’t never had a chance at before, you said.  Isn’t that what all this is about … a chance to settle down, have a wife and family, live like normal men?  It’s not like Paula don’t know what you used to do for a living.  It don’t seem to bother her none.  She knows about the amnesty, too.  There’s nothing you’d have to explain to her if you asked her to marry you and then told her you’d have to wait for the right time.  Only you can’t go on the way you’re going, not saying anything to her, pretending you just think she’s good com­pany.  It … it just ain’t gentlemanly.  It ain’t right—and you know it.”

       Heyes flushed, but said nothing, looking down into his empty beer mug.

       “Look.  Let’s have this out straight.  Do you love her?  Do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?  Because if the answer’s no, we need to go to Parmalee, draw our pay, apologize for leavin’ so sudden, and get out of Laredo tomorrow morning.  You owe her that.  She can’t leave.  We can.”

       “Yes,” responded Heyes, almost inaudibly.  He looked up and met his cousin’s eyes.  “Yes.  I do love her,” he repeated more loudly, with a note of surprise in his voice.

       “Then you know what you have to do.”

       There was a long silence.  “I suppose I do.”  He looked up.  “So tell me, if it was you, what would you do next?”

       “Well, leavin’ aside that I wouldn’t have gotten myself into this mess in the first place, and she wouldn’t suit me—I can’t think of anybody more perfect for you, though—the first thing I’d do is go talk to Wellington.  I suspect he’s wonderin’ why you ain’t done that already.  These folks are English, Heyes.  You gotta do the right thing, and that means askin’ her brother for permission to walk out with her—at the very least, give him an opportunity to ask you your intentions.”  Kid realized, not for the first time, that three years spent with his adopted parents in Arkansas as an older lad had given him some advantages that Heyes, in­dentured at about the same age to a remittance man who had turned out to be a confidence artist, had never had.  One of them was knowing the right course to take in a situation like this, and the other was some understanding of how women thought about things.

       “Damn it, Kid.  You know why I haven’t asked him, don’t you?”  Seeing that his cousin was not going to venture a reply, Heyes continued.  “If he said no … well, she’s of age, and it doesn’t really mean anything, she doesn’t need his permission, but it would put me in a bad position.  I’d either have to stop seeing her, or I’d have to decide to ignore him.  But if I don’t ask him, he can’t say no, can he?”

       “I see.  You think it’s easier to get forgiveness than permission?”

       His partner’s crooked smile came.  He nodded.

       “But it won’t work,” Kid insisted.  “You gotta _do_ something.  Can’t sit on the fence forever.  All right, _don’t_ talk to him.  But you asked what I’d do.”  Looking through the door of the bar and across the hotel lobby, he saw movement at the door to the street.  “And Wellington just came into the hotel, in case you were wonderin’ where he was.”  He smiled cheerfully at his cousin.

       “No time like the present, then, is there?”  Heyes rose.  “You can pay for the beer, and then you should probably go find your gun and put it back on.”

       “Yeah, I’ll do that.  And Heyes?”

       “Hmm?”

       “Leave that here.”  Kid grinned and pointed to the ice pack Heyes was still holding to his cheek.

       “Oh.  Sure.”  Heyes put it down on the table and walked out to the lobby, drying his face with his handkerchief.

 


	4. Further Developments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes reaches an understanding of sorts with his lady's brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a reference in this chapter to a story by my writing partner, RKMacBride, which some readers may wish to see. It is "Chisholm Trail, 1873", and may be found here. https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753007

       Paul Wellington was surprised to hear his name called as he walked toward the stairs, and even more surprised when he turned to find that it was Hannibal Heyes who wanted his attention.  He noticed with some curiosity the evidence, already plain to be seen on Heyes’s face, of a recent altercation.

       “I’d like a word with you,” said Heyes, with a smile.  “In private.”

       “Of course,” responded Paul.  He led the way to a secluded corner of the lobby set aside for reading, deserted at this time of day.  “Will this suit, or do you care to come up to my room?”

       “This is fine.”  The two men sat down. 

       Wellington did not offer to buy drinks or make any other hospitable gesture.  If Heyes wanted to talk about what he suspected—Paula Wellington’s welfare—he had been expecting the conversation to take place for some time, and he was not, at present, feeling very cordial, thanks to Heyes’s long delay in bringing up the subject.  Not wishing to leap to conclusions, however, he smiled slightly and encouraged the outlaw to continue.

       “It’s about Miss Wellington,” Heyes began.  “I thought it was about time I asked … well, about seeing her, ‘walking out’ with her.”

       “Are you asking my permission to see her?  Or is it to continue seeing her?

       “Both, I guess.  Why?”

       “Because the answer is different, depending on which it is.”  Seeing that Heyes had no immediate reply to this, Paul went on.  “Aside from the fact that I rather expected you to bring this up about five weeks ago, I certainly have no objection to your seeing her socially.  If you want my formal permission or approval, you have it.”  He smiled a little sardonically at the surprise and pleasure on Heyes’s face.

       “If, on the other hand, you’re asking if you may _continue_ seeing her, to go on doing what you’re doing now, spending so much time with her, paying her so much attention, without giving any indication that you have any serious intentions of any kind—that’s another matter.  I do object; in fact, I ought to have said something sooner.”  He met the other man’s eyes.  “I shall be blunt, Heyes.”

       “I’d appreciate it.”

       “No, I don’t think you will.  She can’t take much more of this … this … trifling with her, or whatever you wish to call it, that you’re doing.  She may even become ill.  I shouldn’t like to see that.  Nor would you, I should have thought.”  In spite of his efforts to keep this conversation friendly, for his sister’s sake, Paul felt his anger rising, infusing his words, almost against his will, with a tone of cool, distant courtesy.

       “Ill?  Paula?  Of course I don’t want that!  Trifling with her?  But I’m not…!”  Heyes broke off.  After what Kid had said, it occurred to him that it might well look that way to the lady’s brother.  He tried to introduce a lighter note, with his crooked, diffident smile.  “Are you asking my intentions?”

       “If you wish to take it that way.”

       Heyes thought for a moment.  This conversation was not going quite the way he had planned.  Now he had put himself in the very position that he had been trying to avoid.  And he had not missed the note of formal politeness, which, from his experience with Cedric Seymour, the Englishman to whom he had been indentured upon leaving the Valparaiso School for Waywards, he recognized as a danger signal, almost like the warning rattle of a snake when someone stepped too close to it.  “You know our situation.  I can’t do anything right now.  You understand.”

       He had said the wrong thing.  The younger man’s blue eyes hardened, all the friendliness vanishing from his expression.  In an icy tone, Wellington replied, “I understand.  Ah, well.  I daresay she’ll get over it.”

       There was nothing Heyes could say to that.  Coming to his feet and picking up his hat, he nodded with what dignity he could muster.  “Thank you for taking the time to see me.”

       As he watched the former train robber, normally so insouciant, walk away, with just the slightest hint of discouragement in the slump of his shoulders, Paul thought of what his sister would say when she found out he had lost his temper and driven Heyes away.  It was obvious there had been a misunderstanding.  He owed it to her to try to set things right, at whatever cost to himself—and whatever he did must be done quickly, before Heyes left the hotel.  He and Curry might even leave Laredo if something wasn’t done immediately.

       “Joshua!” he called.  Heyes did not turn.  Seeing there was no one else within earshot, and reflecting that no one down in this part of Texas knew the name of Hannibal Heyes anyway—Captain Parmalee had told them that when the outlaws had first told him their true names—he began to cross the lobby quickly, almost running.  “Heyes!” he shouted, raising his voice.  “Wait!”

***   ***   ***

       After retrieving his gun from the Ranger office, Kid thought over the conversation he had just had with Heyes.  He realized suddenly that he might be the only person who could understand both sides of this ticklish relationship between Paula Wellington and his partner.  If that was true, there was something else he needed to do.  He walked back over to the hotel and quickly mounted the back stairs which gave access to the balcony and the second floor hallway.  He knocked at Miss Wellington’s door, hoping she had gone up to her room to compose herself after what he had overheard in the stable.

       She opened the door almost at once, looking surprised, but pleased to see him.  “Kid?  What is it?  Is something wrong?”  He had never come to her room alone before, and she was a little worried.

       “No, nothing’s wrong.  I was just wondering.  If you had time, I’d like to take you over to the café and buy you tea.  It’s about the right time, isn’t it?  For afternoon tea?”  He smiled at her cheerfully, noticing that she had taken the time to change out of her riding clothes into a walking dress.

       The invitation was so unexpected that for a moment Paula didn’t know what to say.  She snapped open the cover of her watch.  “Yes, I suppose it is.  That’s very kind of you.  I shall be delighted.”  She turned away from the door to pick up a dark blue hat trimmed rather severely with blue and silver-gray ribbons to match the piping edging the overskirt draped across the front of her gown and the edge of the button band on the bodice, set it on her head, pinned it in place, and stepped forward to lay her hand on her visitor’s arm. 

       Kid took the room key from her hand, locked the door, returned the key, and led the way to the balcony stairs up which he had come.  He didn’t want her to see Heyes just now and so avoided the hotel lobby.  It would also help, he reflected, if his partner didn’t see him taking Miss Wellington to tea.

       Seating his companion carefully and ordering tea and rolls for both of them, Kid sat down across from her. 

       Paula chatted on indifferent topics until the waitress arrived with their order.  Pouring milk into her cup before adding the hot tea, she sipped with enjoyment before looking at him enquiringly.  “Not that I mind your taking me to tea, but it is a trifle unexpected, you’ll agree.  Was there something in particular you wanted to tell me?  Heyes is all right, isn’t he?”

       “He’s fine,” Kid assured her, keeping to himself the little matter of the bruise that would be showing on Heyes’s face by this time.  “But I did want to talk to you.  It’s kinda important.  I’d like to tell you a couple of little stories.  It’ll help you understand some things about us—about Heyes.  I owe you that because you’ve been so kind, helpin’ me out with Lillian’s letters.”

       Paula leaned forward, her expression serious.  “I shall be grateful for whatever you can tell me, and for any advice you care to give.  No one knows him better than you.  I’ve thought of asking you if I’m doing something wrong, but I didn’t really know what to say….”  She blushed a little and bent her head over her plate.

***   ***   ***

       Hearing his name, Heyes swung around.  Seeing the anxious expression on Paul Wellington’s face, he put aside his disquiet at once.  “Yeah?”

       “I believe that I may have misunderstood you,” said Wellington, coming directly to the point.  “If you’ll forgive me for speaking so sharply, I think we have more to discuss.”

       “Sure,” said Heyes, surprised again.  He seemed to have spent the entire afternoon dealing with surprises of one kind or another. 

       “Excellent,” Paul said, leading the way, this time, to the hotel bar, now completely empty.  He signaled the bartender.  “Harry?  Do you still have that bottle of Scotch whisky I left here with you?  The Talisker?”

       The bartender grinned.  “Sure do.  Most folks around here aren’t sure what it is and don’t even ask about it.”

       “Good.  Pour us each one—and yourself as well, if you wish—and put some ice in the glasses, if you have any.”  Paul indicated the desired amount with two fingers held horizontally.  “And if you have some bread and cold meat, that will do nicely.”  He extracted coins from his pocket and laid them on the bar.

       “Comin’ right up,” replied Harry.

       Heyes and Paul sat down, ironically enough, thought Heyes, at the same little corner table where he and Kid had conducted their recent discussion.

       When the Scotch arrived—two glasses and the bottle, along with a tray of sandwiches—Paul said to Heyes, “You may not care for this.  Many Americans don’t.  If you’re accustomed to bourbon, the taste is quite different.  But this is what the Highlanders of my mother’s family call _uisge beatha_ , the water of life.”

 

       To Heyes, curiously examining the label, which bore the unfamiliar word ‘Talisker,’ with a date of 1830, it sounded as though he had said ‘whish-kuh bay-huh.’  He said, “That word sounds almost like ‘whiskey’.”

       Paul smiled.  “It is.  That’s where English gets the word ‘whiskey’[1]—from the Gaelic word for water.”

       He sipped the Scotch, and watched as Heyes did the same.  As he had expected, the American’s first reaction was surprise mixed with doubt. 

       Heyes took another careful sip, this time allowing the liquor to remain on his tongue a little longer before swallowing.  The sharp bite and the strange, smoky tang were much more noticeable.  He bit into a sandwich, and then essayed the Scotch for a third time.  “That kinda grows on you,” he ventured after a moment.  The significance of the offer of Scotch as an olive branch of sorts was not lost on him.  He appreciated the effort Wellington was making.  He looked up, serious.  “Maybe you did misunderstand what I said.  What did you think I meant?”

       _Leave it to him to take control of the conversation_ , thought Paul, a trifle cynically.  _Well, I’m doing this for Paula_.  Aloud, he said, “It sounded as though you intended to amuse yourself with her a little longer, and then break it off, probably by leaving town, making your wanted status a convenient excuse.  And Heyes, if you do that, you’ll break her heart.  I’m not certain that you haven’t already done so.”  _And if she knew what I was saying to him, she’d be likely to break something else.  My head, perhaps.  But it has to be said_.

       “But I didn’t mean that!  I didn’t mean anything like that.  I suppose I can’t blame you for gettin’ mad, if that’s what you thought.”  Then the rest of what the Englishman had said sank in.  “Break her heart?  That’s the last thing I want to do!”

       “I’m glad to hear it.  So what _did_ you mean by saying you couldn’t do anything at present?”

       “Well, being wanted does have something to do with it, but it’s not an excuse.  You know we’ve been promised an amnesty, and the governor said it’d be about a year, but we really don’t have any idea whether he meant an actual year, or maybe a little more than a year, or maybe a lot longer.  It’s been 15 months now.  It’s possible he might not even keep his promise, though that’s unlikely, from what I’ve heard about Governor Hoyt.  They say he’s a good man.  Anyway,” Heyes continued, “I can’t really think much about the future, or make plans, with all of that so uncertain.”  He paused, thinking, trying to look at things from the point of view of a brother, and remembering what Kid had said about leading Paula on.  “I suppose … maybe I shouldn’t even have started seeing her at all.  But we’d already done a good deal of talking, on the way down here, and, well, I thought she liked me a little.  One thing led to another …”

       “Liked you a little!”  The absurdity of this statement surprised a laugh out of Paul.  “I suppose you realize that she has ‘liked you a little’—has been thinking about you, anyway—for about two and a half years now, ever since that train robbery on the day of the eclipse?”  He frowned.  “And I have been worried for her the entire time; that is, until I got to know you these last few months.  That is why—partly why, at any rate—I sought out this _éclaircissement_.  She would never forgive me if I let you walk away because of a misunderstanding.”

       The implications of this struck Heyes speechless for a few moments.  Looking for a distraction to avoid answering, he sipped his drink again.  “You know, this is good.  I’m starting to like it.”  But the Scotch hadn’t helped.  _Two and a half years?  Put that together with what Kid said, that she was looking at me all the way through that hold-up … She’s known me for almost three months now, and she_ still _wants to spend time with me?  I don’t believe it.  I can’t believe it.  And he’s saying he was worried for her until he got to know me?  But that means … no, that’s not possible._ He decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak.  “So you approve?”

       “Approve of what?”  Paul’s tone was sharp.

       “If I was to start making plans for the future … plans that included your sister …”  That was as close as Heyes could bring himself to the word he couldn’t yet say.  _Marriage_.  Too late, he realized that what he had just said could, once again, be taken in more than one way.

       Taking pity on his prospective brother-in-law, Paul decided to help him out.  “In other words, you want to know if I approve of your asking Paula to marry you.”

       Heyes’s deep brown eyes were lit by his sudden smile.  “Yes.”

       “I do approve.  I can’t think of any man from whom I’d rather see her accept an offer.”

       “That’s plain enough,” said Heyes.  In spite of what Kid had said, he was still surprised beyond measure at the other’s approval.  “But what I want to know is, why?  Why would you approve of anything like that?  Of me?  I’m an owl-hoot.  My folks were Kansas dirt farmers.  I got no family—except my cousin, that is—no home, no prospects, nothing to offer her …”  _Might as well lay it all out on the table right now_.

       _So Curry’s his cousin.  That explains a lot of things_.  “I’ll tell you.  Except for the way you’ve behaved these last few weeks, perhaps, you’re demonstrably a man of character.  You have a great deal of courage and determination, to even be willing to try for that amnesty in such difficult circumstances.  You’re intelligent and resourceful.  You’ve an ability to turn your hand to almost any kind of work and make a decent living.  You’re a man of honour—when you give your word, or say you’ll complete a job, you do it, even at some risk to yourself.  You wouldn’t even let me pay you for the escort job until we arrived, because you said it wasn’t finished.  You and your partner were willing to take temporary work as Texas Rangers when Parmalee offered it, in spite of the possible risk.  It can’t have been for the money, even though they pay forty dollars a month.”[2]  He smiled at Heyes.  “All characteristics I would very much value in a possible husband for my sister.  And she has a home, which you’d be welcome to share.”

       “But I’m a wanted outlaw, even though I’m, well, retired now.  That’s not the kind of man you want for her.”

       “Oh, I see.  It’d be different, naturally, if you were still actively robbing banks and holding up trains, but I don’t think your being wanted by the law, with a price on your head, says anything about your character.”  Paul paused, sipping his Scotch.

       “Most men would think it has a good deal to say about it,” objected Heyes.

       “Not in our family.  Not in our mother’s family, anyway, on the Scottish side.  And our father’s family were English Jacobites.”  He saw the lack of comprehension on the American’s face.  “Allow me to explain.”

       Heyes nodded.  He was always ready to add to his store of knowledge.  _Never know when something like that might be useful.  Besides, I’d kind of like to know more about Paula’s background._

       “In 1715 and again in 1745, there were unsuccessful popular uprisings in support of a Stuart claimant[3] to the British throne, in opposition to the Hanoverian dynasty that came into power in 1714 with King George the First.  Because the Stuarts were Scots, many Scots joined their cause, especially in the Highlands where my mother’s people, the Campbells, are from.  Campbells fought on both sides in both of those wars.  In England, some families joined one or other of the two risings because the Stuart claimant was Catholic, and there were Englishmen who were either Catholic themselves or sympathized with the outlawed status of Catholics in England at that time.  My father’s family were in sympathy with the Stuarts, and some of them fought on that side in the Forty-Five, as the second rising is called.  The Stuart claimant to the throne in 1715 was named James, so his adherents were called Jacobites, after the Latin form of the name.”

       He finished his sandwich.  “I’ll try to make this brief.  That’s now mostly ancient history for the English.  They consider that they won the war, so it’s now over and done with and can be forgot.  For the Scots, it’s another matter altogether.  It was only a hundred and thirty-five years ago—far too recent for any Scot whose ancestors fought for the Stuarts, and lost, to forget it.”  He stopped and looked Heyes in the eye.  “Here’s the point.  After the defeat of the Jacobite forces, the English government began hunting down and arresting or killing anyone who was suspected of having fought on the other side.  If a man did no more than wear the tartan, speak the Gaelic, or play the bagpipes, he was suspected of being a Jacobite sympathizer and treated as an outlaw, complete with wanted posters and rewards placed on his head.  It was made against the law to do all three of those things; in fact, the bagpipe was outlawed as an ‘instrument of war.’  So many Highland families had members who were obliged to take to the heather—go on the dodge, as you say here—that it became more of a badge of honour than a matter for disgrace.  If there were wanted posters out on a man, men assumed he must be doing something right.”

       “Bagpipes are instruments of war?” Heyes interrupted.  “You know, I can kinda see the sense in that.”

       “Well, it’s only fair to warn you,” said Paul, not as amused by this as Heyes had expected, “that if you come to our ranch, you’ll be awakened in the morning by me or one of the Ramsay boys playing the pipes—outside, weather permitting; otherwise in the kitchen or the front parlour.”

       “Really?” responded Heyes.  “I’ve only heard ’em once.  That might be something to look forward to.  But look, Paul…,” he stopped, suddenly realizing there was another question he should ask.  “Are you English?  Or Scotch?”

       “Both, really,” replied Wellington, “and we prefer to say ‘Scottish.’  Scotch is what you’re drinking at the moment.[4]  That’s why Paula and I prefer to call ourselves British, as Great Britain includes England, Wales, and Scotland.  In fact, Scots like to say that they come from the country that makes Britain ‘Great’, since it only started being known as ‘Great Britain’ after Scotland was included under the London government.”

       Heyes digested this.  “There’s a big difference,” he objected, “between your ancestors going on the dodge because they ended up on the losing side in a civil war, and what Kid and I were doing.  We robbed trains and banks because that’s where the money was kept, and because it was easier than working.”  He hesitated for a moment, wondering how much more to say.  Finally, encouraged by Wellington’s friendly acceptance of his now openly declared interest in Paula’s future, he decided to go ahead and tell him the worst of it.  “I think it’s about time I told you about Cedric Seymour, the man I was indentured to when I was fifteen.”

       “I should like to hear it.”

       Performing a rapid mental edit—not that he intended to lie, but some of the details, he felt, should wait on a better acquaintance, or perhaps were best forgotten, kept between himself and Kid—Heyes began with a quick summary of how they had ended up in Indiana in 1864, briefly referring to their parents’ deaths in mid-1860, their two-year stay at a Shaker community[5] in southwestern Ohio, where a friendly family, east-bound from Kansas in 1862, had taken them, and their eventual transfer to the Valparaiso School for Waywards, from which they had run away when Heyes was sixteen years old and his cousin a very young-looking fourteen.[6] 

       Glossing over the reasons behind the kindly Shakers’ relinquishment of the boys to the School for Waywards, and omitting any mention of the situation that had caused them to run away, Heyes continued, “But they caught us and brought us back.  Then I guess they figured Jed and me were too much trouble together, so they split us up.  He was adopted by a family who took him to Arkansas, and they offered me as an indentured farm hand, figured at sixteen I was too old to be adopted.”

       Guessing at some of the things that had been left out, and hearing the repressed bitterness when Heyes spoke of their being split up, Paul nodded soberly.  “That must have been hard.”

       “Oh, it worked out all right,” replied Heyes easily, not willing to accept sympathy when they were not all that well acquainted, however much he hoped that they would someday be related by marriage.  “A charming, well-dressed Englishman showed up, accompanied by a lady whom he introduced to the matron as his wife, and asked to pay the indenture for an older boy, preferably one that was very clever and quick-thinking.”  The crooked smile came.  “Naturally, they signed me over to him on the spot.  Once they had taken me a couple of days’ travel away, Seymour paid off the lady, whom he had hired to pretend to be his wife, and told me what he really wanted me for.  Not an adopted son, not a farm hand or a servant or a business assistant—he wanted an accomplice.  I guess you could say,” he added, remembering his enjoyment of _Oliver Twist_ , “he wanted the Artful Dodger.”

       “An accomplice!”  Even with the hints Heyes had dropped, Paul was surprised. 

       “Yeah.  He was a remittance man who’d gotten tired of living on his remittance and discovered he had a natural talent for running confidence schemes.  He was also a really good mathematician, and he put those skills to work in devising new flim-flam games that the average man wouldn’t see through.  He taught me all of that, and the mathematics, too—even some differential calculus, which he thought I’d like to know just for fun, though I didn’t figure out a way to make use of that until a couple of years ago, when I needed to blow a safe in Denver.”[7]  Heyes grinned cheerfully.  “The mathematics came in handy for calculating odds in card games, especially poker.  Seymour had learned to supplement his income, in between letters from England, by playing honest poker against men who never paid any attention to the odds.  He taught me how to play the odds, to spot a cheat or a card trick, to plan confidence games and run ’em real smooth.  I’d say he taught me almost everything I knew by 1873, when Jed—Kid—and I found each other again.” 

       “Including how to ride in an English saddle, and how to use Continental table manners, I presume,” observed Wellington.

       “How’d you know about the English saddle?” asked Heyes.  _He could have seen the Continental manners the first time we sat down to eat together, but the saddle_?

       “You sit your Western saddle as though you had been taught to ride in the English manner first, and quite well, too, though I see some minor differences.”

       “Oh,” said Heyes.  “Well, we went up to Wyoming the following year to join up with the Devil’s Hole gang—I’d been with them a couple of years earlier, and I told Kid it would be easier money than drivin’ cattle to the railhead like we’d been doin’—and found that the former leader had gotten himself arrested, and the gang was kind of at loose ends, with nobody to plan jobs for them, so I took over.”  He helped himself to a second sandwich as Wellington poured them each another shot of Scotch.

       “And Seymour?”

       “Oh, he was killed in ’sixty-nine.  Ran one too many confidence schemes.  I was waiting for him at the meeting place after we finished one particular swindle, and he never showed.  I heard later somebody shot him.  That’s the year I first started riding with a gang of outlaws.”[8]

       “I expect Seymour’s family will be relieved to hear that, if they’ve not been already informed.”

       “His family?”  Heyes was startled.  “You _knew_ him?”

       “No.  But if he’s who I think he was, he’s the younger son of the late Lord Hertford.  Would he have been about fifteen years older than you, perhaps forty-five now if he were still alive?”

       Heyes grinned at this roundabout way of ascertaining his age.  He supposed Paula’s brother had a right to know that.  “I’ll be thirty-one next month.  Yeah, that’s about right—he was born around 1835, I think.  The son of Lord Heartford, you say?”  Heyes gave the name the pronunciation he had just heard Paul use.

       “Yes.  If he had not been illegitimate, he would have been entitled to call himself ‘Lord Cedric Seymour,’ since his father was a marquess and there was an elder son.  He was in the habit of calling himself that anyway, which is one of the reasons he was packed off to America, so I understand.  I remember hearing my father speak of it.  There was quite a scandal, but it all happened when I was rather too young to know much about it.  Seymour left England when I was quite small.”  Returning Heyes’s courtesy, Paul added, with a smile, “Paula and I will be eight-and-twenty in March.” 

       “Well, what do you know?  He used to talk about how he was really ‘Lord Cedric,’ but I figured it was just part of whatever confidence game he was running.”  Heyes suddenly remembered why he had embarked on this series of anecdotes.  “Anyhow, you see what I was gettin’ at.  I started goin’ wrong when I was still just a boy.  I’ve been …” he stopped, hesitated, and then went on, describing it the way an honest man would see it, “committing crimes since before I was twenty.  That’s not the same thing at all as what you were telling me about both sides of your family being at odds with the law because of a war over a hundred years ago.”

       Paul sighed.  Heyes’s stubbornness was proving to be an unexpected obstacle, though his perverse honesty in owning up to his crooked past could be seen as a good thing.  “It is, in fact, very similar.  Some of the men who became outlaws supported themselves by becoming highwaymen, many of them doing what I suspect you never did, which was to hold up stagecoaches and private vehicles and rob the passengers.  I was only trying to say that being at odds with the law has never been looked upon as a particularly bad thing in my family, especially on the Scottish side, no matter what circumstances led to the condition of outlawry.  Your honesty in confiding some of your history has not caused me to think differently.  You wanted to know why I approve of your courting my sister, and I’m telling you.”

       “But …” Heyes protested.

       Raising a finger to silence him, Paul concluded, “The most important consideration is not how you were raised, nor why you entered upon a life of crime, nor how long you continued to live that way, nor how successful you became …”

       Heyes grinned engagingly.  They had, after all, worked very hard on achieving their current reputations.  His smile faded as he recollected how much trouble those reputations were now causing them.

       “… but the decision you took in October of 1879 to turn your back on all that and seek an accommodation with the law which would allow you to become an honest citizen and begin to live a normal life.  No matter how you try to deprecate yourself, Heyes, that took courage.  You’ve shown determination, and more courage, in continuing to pursue that amnesty in the face of all the reverses you’ve suffered.  And aside from that, I think you may be just the man to make my sister happy.  I couldn’t ask for more.”

       For a while, Heyes was silent.  He couldn’t think of anything to say without looking like a fool.  This was more than he had ever expected when he had taken Kid’s advice and sought out his lady’s brother to clear the air a little.  Finally he spoke.  Characteristically, his first remark dealt with a triviality.  “I sure wish Kid could try some of this Scotch.  Don’t know if he’d like it or not, but he’d be interested.”

       “Take the bottle with you,” offered Paul.  “If there’s any left, you can return it to the bartender here later.  He keeps it for my use.”

       “Thanks, I will.”  Heyes rose, picking up his hat with one hand and the half-empty bottle of Talisker with the other.  “I appreciate you takin’ the time to talk this out.  It’s been a help.”

       Wellington rose also.  “It has been my great pleasure,” he replied, with emphasis.

            

* * *

[1] The two different spellings are both used correctly here.  “Whisky” refers to Scotch and Canadian products, while “whiskey” refers to those distilled in Ireland and the U.S.  If referring to either or both, as in this sentence, one may use either spelling.

[2] This was quite a reasonable rate of pay for the time, but Heyes often seemed to have rather exaggerated ideas of what constituted acceptable remuneration.

[3] Paul should have used the word “Pretender” here, meaning someone who has made a claim to an inheritance held by another, with no shades of meaning implied regarding the validity of such a claim or lack thereof, but many Americans, both in 1880 and later, tend to misunderstand the word when used in this context, so he altered his phrasing for Heyes’s sake.

[4] Scots were just beginning to make this distinction at this time, and it took almost a hundred years for the rest of the English-speaking world to catch on.

[5] As Shaker worship songs were not widely known outside the tight-knit network of Shaker communities until the early 20th century, Heyes and Kid must have spent some time in a Shaker community in order to learn the song “Simple Gifts” well enough to sing it from memory in the second-season episode “The Posse That Wouldn’t Quit.”  <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitewater_Shaker_Settlement>. 

[6] In the second-season episode “The Reformation of Harry Briscoe,” Heyes says they ran away when they were fifteen.  The easiest way to resolve this is to assume that fifteen was the average of their ages at the time.

[7] The calculations necessary to create a vacuum in the Pierce & Hamilton 1878 safe Heyes cracked could be done in more than one way, but a knowledge of differential calculus would have made them much easier.

[8] In the first-season episode “Exit from Wickenburg,” Heyes says that Jim Plummer’s gang was the first one he ever rode with, ten years earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that some readers may disagree with me about the origins of Heyes's riding style, but there has to be some explanation for his very skilled, but very unusual seat in the saddle. The one I have suggested seemed as good as any.


	5. There Might Be Work To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Parmalee receives disturbing news, and plans to send his new Rangers on an undercover assignment in another town. Erik Hunter and Chad Cooper try to figure out a way to help their friend Miss Wellington. Heyes finds that he may have been taking too much for granted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this story, I have ignored some elements of Erik Hunter's character that I believe were only written into the Laredo scripts for laughs. He does have a serious side, which may may be seen if one watches closely.

       Frowning over a report that had just come to his desk, Captain Parmalee went to the door of the office to see if any of the Rangers were in sight before deciding if it was important enough to go and find the men he wanted.  His eye was caught by the flamboyant figure of Erik Hunter, dressed in a short brocade jacket, worn over a pale pink ruffled silk shirt complemented by a pale green silk neck cloth with diamond tie pin and a matching silk cummerbund, with black trousers and a wide-brimmed hat that matched the pattern of his jacket, crossing the street from the tailor shop which enjoyed his patronage.  Parmalee waved, and Erik quickened his pace toward the office.

       “What is it, Captain?”

       “I have a report here that’s quite disturbing, accompanied by a letter from the bank president in the town of Dos Rios.”  Parmalee tapped his wall map.  “I’m sending you and Cooper over there to check things out.  Find him and tell him that I’ll need to brief you both tomorrow morning before you go, say around eight o’clock.”

       “I’ll tell him.”

       Picking up the bank president’s letter and studying it, Parmalee frowned again.  “I’ll probably send Smith and Jones after you.  You’ll have to arrange to meet them discreetly somewhere outside Dos Rios.  For this assignment, I don’t want it known that they are Rangers.”

       “You think someone’s trying to set us up, decoy us there for some reason?” asked Erik. 

       “It’s possible.”

***   ***   ***

       Paula looked across the table at Kid Curry in concern.  He and Heyes had already told her about Grace Turner earlier; adding a few more details to that, Kid had just related to her a number of other stories about the interactions they had had with women, other than saloon girls, since going straight:  sad, hair-raising, or infuriating stories, depending on one’s point of view.  He had also given her a little background history for both of them, telling her that while he had had the good fortune to be adopted by the couple he still called Mama and Daddy Burnett, staying with them for three years before leaving to try to find his cousin, Heyes had been indentured to a confidence man who had trained him to assist in his schemes. 

       “Seymour taught Heyes all sorts of things,” Kid explained earnestly, “that would come in handy for the leader of an outlaw gang, but nothin’ about how to make friends with a woman, or how to … how to court a lady.  He don’t have the first idea how to go about it.”

       “No,” agreed Paula.  “I see that.”

       Curry hesitated, not quite sure how to phrase what he wanted to say.  “We both kinda gave up on any future with a good, decent woman.  Almost all of the women we’ve met have wanted something from us, or needed us to do something for them, or maybe just wanted to turn us in for the reward.  I’m just beginning to get the idea,” he stopped, spots of red appearing on his cheekbones for a moment, “that maybe there _is_ a decent woman out there who knows who I am and what I’ve done and is still willing to even look twice at me.”

       “Miss O’More.”  Paula nodded.  “She sounds like a sensible woman to me.”

       “Yeah, well …”  Kid firmly brought the conversation back to what he had to say.  “The point is, even if you’re fond of Heyes and give him all the encouragement in the world, he might not see it.  He can’t believe it’s possible, so he don’t think about it.  Maybe I shouldn’t ask this—it ain’t really my business—but … you love him, don’t you?”

       She blushed, but looked him directly in the eye.  “Yes.  And I don’t mind your asking.”

       “Then there’s somethin’ else you need to know.  Heyes is really good at poker, better than I am.  Good enough to bring in extra money that way if we’ve been out of work for a while.  Part of that comes from the mathematics Seymour taught him.  He’s an odds player.  With all the calculations he does in his head during a poker game, it’s not gambling, not for him.  He don’t take chances.  If the odds aren’t good, he won’t bet.  I’ve seen him fold, five, six hands in a row, because the odds are under, say, sixty-forty.  If he’s gonna risk a fair amount of money, the odds have to be even higher.”  He paused, looking across the table at her seriously.  “I might risk a bet on even odds, if the return looks good, or just because I got a feeling about it, sometimes, but Heyes won’t.”

       “This isn’t really about poker, is it?”

       “No.”  Kid hoped she would understand without his having to give her more specific advice.  He’d never tried to help his partner out in a romance before.

       “I see.”  Paula folded her napkin, laying her butter knife across the plate in a signal to the waitress that she was finished.  She looked back up at Kid, determination showing in her eyes and the set of her mouth.  “Very well, then,” she concluded briskly.

       _What’s she planning to do_? thought Kid in alarm.  _I hope she didn’t get the wrong idea from what I said_ ….  He rose and went to pull back her chair.  “Paula, don’t think that I …”

She smiled at him.  “It’ll be all right.  Don’t worry.  Thank you for the tea.”

       “Sure.  Don’t mention it.”  He offered his arm to escort her to her hotel room, again selecting the balcony stairs as his preferred route.  On his way back through the lobby, he glanced into the hotel bar and saw his cousin still deep in conversation with Paul Wellington.  _At least that’s going all right.  Wellington ain’t called him out in the street or anything_.

***   ***   ***

       Erik found Chad playing poker in the saloon with Joe and three other men.  Detaching his friend from the game, the Dutchman filled him in on what Parmalee had said about the assignment for the next day. 

 

       Chad was intrigued, especially by the suggestion that Parmalee might send Smith and Jones in under cover.  “Maybe they have some special skills.  I’m looking forward to this.  I’ll be there, eight o’clock.  There’s something else I have to do this evening.”

Erik hesitated.  He was not in the habit of discussing women with Chad, except in the way of competitive banter, but he knew Chad was also a friend of the Wellingtons.  “Have you spoken with Miss Wellington lately?  I’m concerned for her.”

       Giving him a long, direct look, Chad responded with a grimace and shrugged, French-fashion.  “I haven’t talked to her for several days.  She’s been busy, and so have I.”

       “Smith’s been taking up her time, you mean.”

       “Yeah.  That’s exactly what I mean.  But it’s her own business, Erik.” 

       “Is that what you really think, or are you just trying to convince yourself that there is nothing you can do?” asked Erik shrewdly.

       “As a matter of fact, there _is_ something I can do.  Not much, maybe, but I plan to try.  I’m going to take her to dinner this evening, if she’ll consent.  It’ll give me a chance to ask her if there’s any way I can help.”

       Nodding, Erik suggested, with a diffidence unusual for him, “Will you tell her that I also am ready to offer assistance?”

       “Sure, I’ll tell her.  You know, Smith’s not a bad fellow.  I like him, if it weren’t for all this courtin’ that isn’t really courtin’.  I’m afraid she’s going to be hurt.  I don’t know what to make of it.  Maybe one of us should talk to him instead.”

       “If we have mis-read the situation, such a course is likely to be most unwelcome to Miss Wellington.  I should hold off on that, if it were I.”

       “Yeah, I thought of that.  You know, Joe saw Smith and his partner go out in the alley together this afternoon, and later I saw Smith lookin’ like someone had belted him a good one.”

       “Excellent!  That sort of thing would come much better from Jones.”  Erik turned to leave.  “Let me know if there is anything I can do.”

       “Sure will.  See you in the morning.”

       Watching Erik stroll down the boardwalk, apparently to give the denizens of the town an opportunity to admire his latest jacket and hat, Chad pulled out his watch.  _Might as well ask her before she makes other plans for the evening,_ he thought to himself.  He restored his watch to its pocket and strode over to the hotel, intending to ascertain if Miss Wellington were in her room or elsewhere.

       To his secret relief, since he didn’t really want Wellington to jump to hasty conclusions upon seeing him call on Miss Wellington in her room, the lady exited the front doors of the hotel just as he approached.  Chad tipped his hat.  “Miss Wellington?  I wonder if I might have the pleasure of your company at dinner this evening.  The hotel offers a fine steak dinner, or, if you prefer, we could go across to the café.”

       Considerably surprised, Paula replied to his formal courtesy as composedly as she could.  “Why, thank you, Chad.  The steak dinner would be excellent.  Shall we say in about an hour?  I’ll meet you in the lobby here.”

       “An hour it is,” replied Chad, accepting the put-off as an indication that she knew he had no romantic intentions.  This was just a friendly social outing, and they both knew it.  “I’ll talk to the cook to make sure everything’s the way you like it.  Still prefer your steak rare?  Under-done?”

       “Yes, indeed.  That’s very kind of you.  I’ll see you then.”  Paula nodded to him and continued on her way down the boardwalk to the general store, from which she was able occasionally to replenish her supply of sock yarn, sewing thread, and other necessities.  Just once, she thought, it would be quite nice if Heyes had ever asked her to dinner like that, observing all the proprieties; she supposed, however, that their current very informal habits of conversation were a direct result of having spent three weeks on the trail together, cooking over a campfire and eating from tin plates. 

       For a moment, she almost envied Kid’s lady friend Lillian O’More.  Kid and Miss O’More were enjoying the advantages, such as they were, of infrequent, formal communication by letter, in which what one wished to say could be thought out in advance to avoid misunderstanding.  One could even enclose flower cards, as Miss O’More had done in her second letter, with which one could convey things it was impossible for a lady to say outright. 

       She laughed at herself silently, trying to imagine Heyes’s reaction to receiving a letter with a flower card in it.  All the same, when she entered the general store, she looked about to see if they had anything of the kind offered for sale.  A flower seed packet, which she knew they had, might do if no flower cards for the specific purpose of correspondence were available.  Perhaps she could think of a way to use them as a means of improving the odds for Heyes, as Kid had obliquely suggested that afternoon.

***   ***   ***

       Heyes had returned to the saloon to play a few hands of poker, then looked up his partner and they had walked over to the café for supper.  For once disinclined for more poker, Heyes suggested that they return to the hotel midway through the evening.  He wanted to tell Kid a little bit about the surprising conversation with Paul Wellington; more than that, he wanted to think, and both the café and the saloon were too crowded.  The two men entered the hotel lobby from the boardwalk just as Chad Cooper, with Miss Wellington on his arm, came through the archway from the hotel dining room.  They were not looking at one another, and it was obvious there were no secrets being discussed, but Heyes experienced a sudden shocking stab of jealousy, which none knew better than he to be irrational.  He had not spoken to Miss Wellington formally of his intentions—he had not been sure, until this very day, that he had any intentions to speak to her about.  She had every right to go to supper with whomsoever she pleased, even Chad Cooper, but somehow Heyes had fallen into the habit of thinking that she spent her time, when they were not together, occupying herself with knitting, sewing, or reading, and waiting for him to ask her to lunch or to go for a ride.  Certainly she would not accept a supper invitation from another man.  At least, so he had assumed.

       The surprise and irritation on his partner’s face almost made Curry burst out laughing.  After his talk with her over tea, he knew that Miss Wellington had no interest in anyone but Heyes.  He could even dimly guess why she might have gone to supper with Cooper—their friendship was of fairly long standing, after all, and Curry knew that Cooper and some of the other Rangers were taking an interest in how Heyes was treating Miss Wellington, as he had warned his cousin earlier in the day.  Apparently, however, Heyes had been thoughtlessly taking his status as the exclusive recipient of her attention for granted, judging by the look he was giving Cooper.

       “Well, now, she ain’t your girl, is she?  She can dine with whoever she wants to.”  Kid smiled cheerfully at Heyes, who grimaced.

       Seeing what was happening, Paula removed her hand from Chad’s arm.  When he looked down at her, she smiled and thanked him for a pleasant evening, her tone friendly but unmistakably dismissive.  Chad bowed and said good night, putting on his hat and touching the brim of it with one finger in greeting as he passed Heyes and Curry on his way out.  He did not speak, and neither of them tried to detain him.

       Paula retrieved her room key from the desk clerk and paused at the foot of the stairs as Heyes came toward her.  After what she and Kid had talked about, she could not help blushing a little, hoping it was not obvious.  Even in the dim light from the oil lamps, she saw the bruise on the left side of his face, and barely restrained herself from stretching her hand out to him in sympathy.  If he wanted her to know how it came to be there, he would tell her, but he was more likely to say nothing, in typical masculine fashion.

       “I just wanted to be sure that we were still planning on a ride tomorrow.  I can arrange for a boxed lunch from the café,” Heyes began.  “Of course, that’s assuming I don’t actually have to do some work.  Parmalee isn’t paying us to hang around town indefinitely, playing poker and wasting his time.”

       “The ride and the boxed lunch will be lovely,” Paula responded.  “We can plan on half-past twelve as usual, and you can tell me if you have to cancel because of Ranger business.  But the captain usually tries to let the men know the night before if something’s come up, as you know.  Chad was just telling me that he and Erik are leaving town fairly early tomorrow, as soon as they are briefed on the assignment.”

       Her lack of self-consciousness in mentioning Cooper by name obscurely reassured Heyes, for some reason he couldn’t define.  “Sure.  I’ll arrange it, then.  I’ll pick up the lunch and saddle your horse for you.  You know he likes me well enough now to let me saddle him without you there.  Will I see you for breakfast?”

       “I’m not certain.  I’m rather tired this evening, so I was planning to go up to my room early and possibly sleep a little later in the morning.  You had best not wait for me if you don’t see me coming down for breakfast by seven.”  Her smile included Kid.

       “All right,” Heyes agreed.  “Good night, then.”  He handed her one of the little lamps kept at the front desk for the purpose of finding one’s way to the upper rooms in the dimness.

       “Good night.”  She took the lamp and slowly mounted the stairs to the second floor.

      

       “You know, that idea about going up to the room early doesn’t sound bad.”  At Kid’s surprised look, Heyes added, “Not that I want to go to bed early, but I don’t want to play poker or have to talk to a lot of people.”  He favored his cousin with a crooked smile.  “You, I don’t mind talking to.  In fact, I’ve got some things I want to tell you.”

       “O.K.,” said Kid peaceably.  “Let’s go up to the room.”

***   ***   ***

       Curry laid out old newspapers, cotton swabs, oil, and clean cloths, put his feet up, and prepared to clean his gun.  It had not been fired that day, but he made it a habit to perform the task every evening.  The Colt, like any fine piece of machinery, was only reliable if carefully looked after.  He looked over at his cousin, who had curled up on his bed with a book, but had made no effort to open it.  “So what happened with Wellington?  I noticed you two had quite a long talk.”

  

        “You know, Kid, I’m still trying to figure that out.  The talk ended up being in two parts, and the second part turned out really well—in fact, he offered me some Scotch that he’d given the hotel bartender to keep for him, and when I said you’d like to try it, he told me to take it with me.  Here.”  He took the bottle from the bedside table and poured a small amount into a glass.  “Take it easy.  It’s nothing like what we’re used to drinking.”

       Taking a careful sip of the Scotch, Curry made a face, and then tossed the rest of it off, making another face.  “That’s real interesting stuff.  It’s different, all right.”  He set the glass down and picked up his gun again.  “The first part didn’t go all right?”

       “Well, he told me he had no objection if I was asking to walk out with her, but lots of objections to me going on like I’d been doing—pretty much the same thing you said.  He got around to asking my intentions, like you thought he would.  And then I guess I put my foot in it, somehow.  I said because of our situation, I couldn’t do anything right now.  ‘You understand,’ I said.  He got real cool and polite, and said—” Heyes imitated the Englishman’s tone, “—‘Ah.  I daresay she’ll get over it.’”  Heyes looked over to meet his cousin’s eyes, his own very dark with the memory.

       “Sounds pretty polite to me,” offered Kid.  “At least he wasn’t mad.”

       “Oh, he _was_ polite.  And he wasn’t mad.  He was furious.  That’s something I know better than you, because of how Cedric Seymour acted around me.  That kind of Englishman, the softer and more polite they get, the madder they are.  When it came out like that, I knew there wasn’t anything more I could say.  I got up and left.  I suppose I have Paula to thank—or Wellington’s knowledge that she’s fond of me … yes, he admitted that—that he didn’t call me out in the street right then.  And with you nowhere to be found, I’d have been in trouble.  I think he’s faster on the draw than I am.”

       Setting his gun aside, Kid put both feet on the floor and sat up straight.  “That bad?  But he didn’t …”

       “No,” said Heyes, “but he did come after me as I was crossing the lobby.  Called my real name to get my attention.  When I turned back, he said he could see there’d been a misunderstanding, and wanted to get it set right.  That’s when he offered me the Scotch—told the bartender to put ice in it, and ordered a plate of sandwiches for us both.  So then we talked for quite a while, and got everything smoothed over, I think.”  He filled his partner in on some of the things Wellington had said about his ancestors being outlaws in Scotland, and how that affected his attitude toward the idea of his sister being courted by a man with a price on his head. 

       Kid finished cleaning his gun, wiped it carefully free of excess oil, reloaded it, and returned it to its holster.  “Makes a lot of sense.  I’ve been kinda wonderin’ about that, ever since we found out they knew who we were and had no intention of trying to arrest us.  It’s promising, though, for you.”

       “Oh, it’s more than that.  Wait’ll you hear!”  Heyes grinned.  “I pointed out that what you and I’ve been doing isn’t the same thing at all as men going on the dodge because they were at odds with the government after a war.  We stole because it was easier than working.  I even told him about Seymour, how I ended up with him, everything he taught me.  Oh—it turns out Wellington’s heard of him.”

       “Of Seymour?  How?”

       “Well, apparently Cedric left England after causing quite a scandal—before Wellington’s time, he says, but he heard his father talk about it.  And his name wasn’t really Seymour—he was illegitimate.  But he was the son of some lord whose name was Seymour.  Anyway, I figured I’d better tell Wellington the worst about myself, and get it over with.  He still said he approved of me, uh, well, thinking about asking Paula to marry me.  When I asked why, he said …”  Heyes stopped, a slight flush mounting to his cheekbones.

       “He said what?” his cousin encouraged quietly.

       “It’s just … it’s gonna sound stupid if I say it … he said goin’ after the amnesty, and keepin’ at it, showed courage, and determination, and … and a lot of other things like that,” finished Heyes in a rush.  “Said he thought I could be just the man to make her happy—he couldn’t ask for more.”  He stopped and looked at Kid, his impish smile coming back.  “He said I should stop trying to run myself down.”

       “Oh, Lord,” said Kid.  “That’s all we need—someone encouraging you to brag about yourself.  Seriously, Heyes, that sounds pretty good to me.”

       “Yeah.”  Heyes fell silent, looking thoughtful.  “Some of it was kinda surprising.”  He stood up.  “Think I’ll go for a walk.  Then maybe I will try to turn in early.”

      

      


	6. Hannibal Heyes Plays the Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Erik Hunter and Chad Cooper leave Laredo on their latest assignment, Hannibal Heyes and Paula Wellington make progress in their relationship. But is it progress in the right direction? Kid Curry isn't so sure.

**Tuesday, January 18th, 1881**

Hours after he and Heyes had both blown out the lamps and turned in, Curry heard his partner stir restlessly.  By the angle of the moonlight coming in the window, he judged it must be well after midnight[1], probably closer to two in the morning.  He watched Heyes get dressed, put his heavy coat on against the cold night air, and leave the room.  _Probably going for another walk, maybe to do some more thinkin’.  Well, I can understand that.  Hope he figures things out_.  He pulled the covers over his head and went back to sleep.

      

       The same brilliant moonlight, streaming through a chink in the inadequately closed curtains, fell across Paula Wellington’s face and woke her from a sound sleep.  Moved by some impulse she didn’t quite understand, she got up, put on a woollen dressing gown against the cold, and went over to the window, which looked out onto Laredo’s main street.  The town was quiet and all the windows darkened, so it must be well on toward morning.  

       Paula saw a movement in the shadows of the boardwalk across the street and drew back hastily, making sure she was behind the edge of the curtain and couldn’t be seen in her night dress by this late wanderer.  Then she looked more closely.  The moonlight glinted off unmistakable wrought silver shapes on the man’s hatband, and she knew it was Heyes, standing motionless just under a projecting balcony, staring up at something on her side of the street.  

  

       At her window, she realized.  She continued to watch, taking care not to be seen.  He looked almost unfamiliar in the moonlight, and she thought suddenly that she was seeing something few people, other than Kid Curry, had ever seen—Hannibal Heyes, with no need to shield his thoughts from anyone, his face ravaged by strong emotion.  Then he moved slightly, and she caught her breath as the moonlight revealed a look of inexpressible longing. 

       Feeling hot tears sting her eyelids, she began to pray, earnestly, desperately, for God to show her what to do or say the next day, to encourage him without giving him altogether the wrong idea of her character—to give him the better odds that his partner had said he needed before he would risk making a move.  At least now she knew that whatever it was he felt toward her, it was far more than a desire to pass the time in flirtation with a pleasant female companion.

       More than an hour later, Heyes slowly straightened, hesitated for a moment, checked his watch, then crossed the street to the hotel. 

  

       Chilled from her long vigil, but much more at peace from the uninterrupted session of prayer—not that the Lord had given her any answers, but she had the sense that He would do so at the right time—Paula drew back, pulled the curtains shut, and returned to her bed.

***   ***   ***

       “That’s all I know right now,” said Captain Parmalee briskly, looking at two of his best Rangers.  “It could just be a string of lucky bank robberies, but I don’t like the sound of it.  Go and see this Mr. Jarvis at the First Bank of Dos Rios, like he asks, but keep your eyes and ears open for anything that doesn’t look quite right.  I’ll send Smith and Jones after you later today.  You can wire me after you get there with a description of a good place to meet them.  They’ll wire me before they get into town and I’ll pass it on to them.”  He paused.  “I know the pair of you are both experienced at this kind of thing, and I’m not putting anybody in charge of anybody else on this assignment, but I’d advise you to listen to them, especially Smith, if he’s got any suggestions about how to approach this, or any comments about what the situation looks like to him.”

       “We’ll do that, Cap’n,” replied Chad.  “I’m open to suggestions any time if a man thinks he can see clearer than I can.”

       “As Chad says, I don’t mind taking advice, but is there some special reason that you think Smith and his partner might have a helpful point of view in this situation?” asked Erik.

       Parmalee nodded briskly.  He had already decided on what had to be confided.  “Yes, as it happens, they’re both former bank robbers.  Smith’s had a good deal of experience planning bank heists.  He might be able to see something about this situation that you or I would miss.”

       Erik and Chad looked at each other.  “Well, I’ll be …,” Chad breathed.  “We’ll be more’n happy to benefit from their experience, if they’ve got anything to contribute.  You know what they say about not lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth.  I’d say them being here right now, with their experience, is a gift we shouldn’t pass up.”

       “Exactly,” Parmalee responded.

       “And you trust them, Captain?”  Erik brought up the point that no one had yet mentioned.

       “Yes, absolutely.  They’ve done this kind of work before and they come well recommended.”

       That was all Erik needed to know.  He nodded.  “We’ll wire you when we’ve found a good meeting place.”  He and Chad left the office and headed to the Ranger stable to get their horses.

***   ***   ***

       Heyes looked at Paula across the remains of their boxed lunch.  She had been drawing him out as she usually did, encouraging him to talk about himself, and he suddenly realized that he was no nearer to verifying what Kid had said—that she loved him, rather than merely being fond of him.  He was also no nearer to finding an opening to talk about what he wanted to say.  She was as reserved as he was, and though he understood and respected that, it did make serious communication difficult.

       He smiled cheerfully at her, unaware of the disorienting effect that had on her thinking.  “I’ve been doing most of the talking.  What about you?”

       She looked surprised.  “What about me?  I’ve told you a good deal about my background.  Were you thinking of something in particular?”

       Now his smile was one of satisfaction.  “Yes.  When you left Britain, what were you running away from?” 

       Paula stared at him, disconcerted.  This, she thought, must be one of the Lord’s answers to her desperate prayers of the previous night—that she could somehow give Heyes an opening to let him know how she felt about him.  He had made his own opening.  Now all she had to do was to make one of the sacrifices she had told herself she would be willing to make—to drop her reserve and let him into her private life.  _But how outrageous of him—and how typical!  Life with this man would never be dull.  I suppose I knew that back in July of 1878._

“Something made you willing to pull up stakes and leave your home,” he elaborated, “made your brother willing to leave the country without finishing college, to travel almost five thousand miles, and it was all very sudden.  What was it?”

       She was silent for so long that Heyes wondered if she was going to answer at all.  Then she took a deep breath.  “It was to escape from my aunt—my father’s sister-in-law—and the pressure she and others in my father’s family were putting on me to marry a man she considered ‘suitable.’  She wanted me to marry her younger brother; failing him, her cousin, or one of the young men who had offered for me earlier.  Each of them was more appalling than the last.” 

       Whatever Heyes had been expecting her to say, it was not that.  He nodded encouragingly, wondering what the unknown aunt would say if she knew that Paula was now ‘walking out’ with a notorious outlaw, albeit one retired from actively robbing banks and holding up trains.  He supposed he must rank pretty high on the list of the most unsuitable men her family could ever have imagined.

       Paula met his gaze for a few seconds, and then looked down.  As she spoke, she kept making an effort to look into his eyes, then looking away after a few moments, her cheeks flushing slightly.  “The men my aunt kept recommending were impossibly dull, irresponsible, too old, or … or outright scoundrels.  I managed, the year I turned eighteen, to keep finding good reasons why I should be left to make my own decisions about any suitor, in my own time.” 

       “It almost sounds like there was money involved,” suggested Heyes shrewdly. 

       “I suppose there was—but all of the money that my brother and I had coming to us after our father’s death was tied up at that time, very carefully, in two separate trusts.  My share would not have passed automatically into the hands of my future husband.  As a matter of fact, much of it is still tied up.”

       “Did she know that?  Your aunt?”

       Paula looked thoughtful.  “It’s possible that she did not.”      She looked up, her face very serious.  “I turned nineteen in the spring of 1872.  My aunt redoubled her efforts to convince me to consent to a marriage—any marriage, I sometimes thought, but particularly with the suitor she kept urging me to accept—her younger brother, an unpleasant man a few years older than I, with an unsavoury reputation.  One day she deliberately left us alone together and went into another part of the house, out of earshot.”

       Heyes leaned forward sympathetically, putting his left hand over her right one where it lay on her knee.  Paula made no move to withdraw from his touch.  “Go on,” he urged her.  “He tried to force his attentions on you?”

       “That’s precisely what he tried.”  Her lips curled in a slight, derisive smile.  “I gave him a box on the ear, and there was an end of it—for that day.  But I knew then I was no longer safe in my aunt’s house.”

       Heyes had heard the phrase, but was not absolutely certain of its meaning.  Seeing his questioning look, Paula brought her open left hand up to touch his ear and the side of his face lightly—the right side, as the left side was disfigured by a spectacular bruise, regarding which she had carefully refrained from comment.  Heyes’s expression cleared.  “You slapped him.”

       “Yes.  Hard enough to knock him off his balance.”

       His attention strayed momentarily from the main topic.  “Was that when you started carrying a knife in your bodice?”

       “How did you know about that?” she asked, surprised.

       “Kid saw it once on the trail, when you were using it for cooking, and told me.”

       _They certainly kept that knowledge to themselves, didn’t they?_   “No, but I did decide to start carrying a gun—only a thirty-two derringer at the time, but it would have been useful that day.  My father taught me to use a handgun as well as a rifle.”

       “You said you didn’t feel safe.  What about Ellen … Mrs. Ramsay?  You told us she was your nurse when you and your brother were small, and that she stayed with you—in fact, that she came over to America with you, she and her two sons.  Where was she?”

       “My aunt had insisted that I needed no other chaperone than herself, and that Ellen wasn’t really trained as a proper lady’s maid, which my aunt said I was to have.  Ellen and her sons had been sent back to Scotland, to my mother’s family, since Ellen also hailed from there.  My brother had been strongly encouraged to sit the university entrance examinations, and just a few months previously had gone away to Oxford to begin his studies.  My newly hired maid reported regularly to my aunt on my activities and whereabouts.  My young cousin Adrian, my aunt and uncle’s younger child, was sent away to school.  He was only thirteen years of age, but I think he would have tried to help if he had seen what was happening.” 

       She looked up, her expression bleak.  “I have never felt so alone.”  Without her realizing it, her fingers moved to clasp the hand laid comfortingly over hers.  Suddenly she smiled at Heyes, attempting to dismiss the gloom from her face. 

       He realized that she was nearly as skilled as he was at adopting a deceptive facial expression to keep others from reading her emotions.  _Maybe that’s been part of our trouble.  Neither of us has been willing_ — _or able_ — _to risk being open with the other one_.

       “Anyway,” she continued rather quickly, “I managed to get a letter to my brother, and bless him, he was home in two days, with a very convincing story about Ellen having fallen gravely ill, and a message having been sent to Oxford that she was asking to see both of us as soon as we could come.  He was even able to produce a letter to that effect for my aunt to see.  He had already hired a carriage to take us to the railway station, proposing to take me and what little I could pack quickly and to leave for Scotland within the hour.  There was nothing my aunt could say.  She urged us to take the maid, but Paul said that since we were not going to any social outings, and would be gone for two weeks at the most, I shouldn’t need a maid, or any chaperon other than him.”

       “Once away from the house, we stopped at the offices of our father’s solicitor[2], because Paul wanted to find out how much of our father’s money we could get access to at short notice.  He had realized we were going to have to go somewhere, preferably some distance away, to get me away from our aunt and her marriage schemes.  The solicitor explained that the trust documents provided for the disbursement of funds in such an emergency—apparently our father had had his doubts about the situation that might arise within the family if he were to die before we reached the age of one-and-twenty, and had made plans accordingly.”

       “We found that if we complied with the specific terms of the trust, using the money for the express purpose of moving ourselves and the horses to America to set up the horse breeding farm that my father had planned, all the funds we needed were ready and waiting.  The solicitor arranged everything:  purchase of the remaining breeding stock that we wanted, plus the horses our father had already bought, that we had in Scotland, passage for us and the horses on the next available transatlantic steamer touching at a Scottish port—he thought we might be looked for in Liverpool if anyone suspected what we were planning to do, so suggested Glasgow instead—money to hire men to help with the horses on the voyage, and passage money for Ellen and her boys to accompany us.  He drew up a power of attorney authorizing Ellen to act for us with regard to the trust funds or any property transactions, since we were not yet of age … and within ten days we had embarked for America.  Oh, and we went to West Friesland, in the Netherlands, first, to get another Friesian mare from Mynheer Jaeger, Erik Hunter’s father.”

       “We’d best get back,” she said, after a slight pause, “before Paul or Kid or someone else comes looking for us.”

  

       Effortlessly rising from his cross-legged position without moving his feet or using his hands to steady himself, Heyes helped her up.  He went to tighten cinches and replace bridles while Paula tidied their lunch spot.  He was standing by her horse’s left side with the stirrup turned up over the saddle when she came over with the bag containing the empty lunch containers, to be hung over the saddle horn.

 

       Not realizing that she was directly behind him, Heyes turned to take the bag, and bumped into her.  He found himself looking down into her face with only a few inches separating them.  As he looked, she blushed a deep wild rose color, and involuntarily his hands went out to her.  Raising her eyes to his, she colored more deeply still, but did not look away.  The bag dropped unheeded to the ground as he took her in his arms.

       “I don’t want you to feel alone like that ever again,” he said softly.  He stopped, knowing the next thing that must be said, and not quite able to bring himself to say it, not yet.  Instead, he kissed her, very gently, very briefly—and realized with something of a shock that she had never been kissed before.  _Fancy me, Hannibal Heyes, giving a lady her first kiss_ , he thought, his irrepressible sense of humor coming to the fore.  _Of all the unlikely things to happen …_

       He kissed her again, a little more firmly.  As she made no move to protest, or to stop him as she had once before with a finger placed on his lips, he carefully kissed her a third time.

       When he raised his head, she gave a small sigh and nestled into his arms, her head resting on his chest.  For long moments he stood still, holding her.  All of his questions were answered now, except the difficult one of what he should do next—well, not what to do, exactly, for he knew what he had to do—but how and when to go about it.  The saner part of his mind, meanwhile, was still protesting faintly that even to be thinking about marriage in his situation was the height of foolhardiness, but he had already decided to ignore that.  

       Finally he reluctantly slackened his hold, and Paula immediately straightened, blushing again as she looked up into his face.  “Like you said,” he suggested, “we’d better get back to town.”  He picked up her hat and handed it to her before clasping his hands to give her a foothold for mounting, then turned to mount his own horse.  They began to ride back toward Laredo without speaking, their horses walking side by side so closely their knees almost touched.

***   ***   ***

       That was how Kid Curry saw them as he came through the door of the Ranger office.  He altered course toward the livery stable, meaning to tell Heyes that Captain Parmalee had an assignment for them.

       Entering the stable and pausing to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the interior, Curry saw Heyes’s silhouette against the daylight from the open doors at the far end.  As he came closer, he saw Heyes lift Paula’s saddle, with both cinches already up over the seat, and swing it up to the rack above his head, while she lifted off the saddle blankets.  They met at the opening to the stall just as Heyes lowered his arms and Paula reached out for the brush lying on top of the partition.  It was quite easy for Heyes to continue to lower his arms and put them right around her.  He couldn’t be expected to pass up such an opportunity. 

       Approving, but surprised, Curry watched as his cousin folded the lady close to his chest and kissed her heartily.  _They must have reached some kind of understanding today.  Once he’s made up his mind, he doesn’t waste any time, does he_?  He coughed to let the couple know he was nearby.  Heyes released Paula, but with no hint of embarrassment.  She picked up the brush she had dropped and went to work on Star’s off side, her head bent assiduously over the work.

       “When you’ve finished rubbing down the horses,” Kid said laconically, “the captain wants to see us, Heyes.  I’ll help you.”

       Heyes stopped brushing the stallion’s near side and nodded.  “My horse is over here.”  He crossed the alley between the rows of stalls and led the way to where his claybank dun gelding was stabled.  Paula finished and came to stand by the back partition.

       Holding his hand out to her as he and Kid came out of the stall, Heyes said, “I’ll come and let you know what Parmalee wanted us for.”

       She touched his hand briefly, nodding.  “I’ll return these things to the café and wait for you in the hotel lobby.”

      

       “How’d it go?” asked Kid, though he already knew some of the answer. 

       “It meant something,” replied Heyes, with a satisfied smile. 

       Kid remembered the time in early November, on the trail, when Heyes had attempted to steal a kiss and had been stopped by Miss Wellington laying a finger across his lips and telling him she wanted it to mean something.  “Yeah, I think I could tell that from watching you.”

       “Oh, that was the fourth time today,” said Heyes.  His voice was distant and uncertain, and when Kid glanced at him, puzzled, he saw that his partner was looking more than a little distracted.  For that matter, Miss Wellington had had a similar look on her face when she left the stable.

       Heyes turned to lead the way out, misjudged his distance, and walked into one of the posts supporting the roof, bumping his nose and knocking his hat off.  Picking up the hat and putting it back on, he paused for a moment, looking confused, then continued out through the front doors. 

       “Fourth time?”  Kid refrained from comment on his partner’s navigational skills.  Normally he would not pry into Heyes’s romantic entanglements, but this was a special case.  He was worried for Miss Wellington.

       “Yeah.  The first three times were right after lunch.  I told her I didn’t want her to feel alone any more.”

       After waiting a few moments and getting nothing further, Kid asked, “What else did you say?”

       “Nothing.  Well, a few minutes later, I said we’d better head back.”

       “Heyes, you know there’s something you need to ask her.”

       “I’ll get to it.  Stop your worryin’, Kid.”

      

* * *

[1] [http://aa.usno.navy.mil/rstt/onedaytable?ID=AA&year=1881&month=1&day=18&state=TX&place=Laredo](http://aa.usno.navy.mil/rstt/onedaytable?ID=AA&year=1881&month=1&day=18&state=TX&place=Laredo)

[2] This term was used in the United States at the time, referring primarily to a lawyer who handled cases in courts of equity, so Heyes probably would have been familiar with it, unlike an American living in the 20th or 21st centuries.


	7. The First Bank of Dos Rios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Curry find their bank robbery expertise in demand as they assist Chad Cooper and Erik Hunter on a Ranger assignment.

       In the Ranger office, Heyes and Kid took the seats Parmalee waved them to, accepting his offer of fresh coffee.

       “You have a job for us?” Heyes asked.  _Just now, when Paula and I are starting to understand each other.  Well, he_ is _paying us to work_.

       “Yes.  I sent Cooper and Hunter off this morning to Dos Rios.  You’ll meet them there.”  The captain explained the arrangements he had made to set up a meeting place.  “I don’t want the banker or anyone else in town to know that you two are Rangers; that is, until it’s time to make an arrest.  Cooper will advise you about that.  Meanwhile, I hope you’ll give me the benefit of your advice, because this situation isn’t as straightforward as it seems.”

       Heyes leaned forward, intrigued.  “Our advice?”

       “Let’s say your experience.  Look.”  He handed the letter from the Dos Rios banker to Heyes, who read it through quickly and passed it to his partner.  When they had both seen it, Parmalee continued.  “You see he says he wants Ranger protection, because he’s afraid his bank will be next in a string of bank robberies that he’s heard about in that area.”  He got to his feet and traced a line on the large wall map of Texas, southeast from Dos Rios, which lay a day’s ride northeast of Laredo, toward the border with Mexico.  “He mentions four towns:  these four.  What does that suggest to you?”

       The cousins looked at each other.  “A Mexican gang, working their way up into Texas,” said Curry.

       “Precisely.”

       “Except…?”  Heyes prompted.

       “Except that we’ve heard nothing of those other four robberies.  And believe me, gentlemen, I would have heard, even if local law enforcement was called in first.  It’s possible that the gang could have killed everyone living in each of those towns, so there was no one left to go for help, but for a number of reasons, I think that’s unlikely.  The other possibility …”

       “Is that there’s no gang of bank robbers,” finished Heyes, “maybe not even any robberies.”

       Parmalee nodded. 

       Heyes was thinking.  “And if there _were_ any robberies, they were inside jobs, or done some other way that was so slick that no news got out.  Your banker in Dos Rios is lying, or he’s in on the other robberies, or he knows who did them.  I’d say he intends to rob his own bank or cover for someone else who plans to rob it….”

       Kid spoke up.  “Maybe he asked for Ranger protection so that he could blame the Rangers if the robbery happens while they’re in town, maybe say they didn’t do anything to prevent it.”

       “Chad and Erik would be witnesses to the bank being robbed right while they were in town, after they told him his security arrangements were adequate,” said Heyes.  “That’d help him out with the bank examiner, make it easier to get the bank re-capitalized, and incidentally give the Rangers a black eye with the public.”

       “Or maybe with the legislature in Austin,” corroborated Parmalee.  “We’re being considered for a funding request to expand the Ranger force in this part of Texas.”

       “It’s not a very bright idea, in some ways,” said Kid, “because part of it depends on whoever you send being kinda stupid and easy to put somethin’ over on, and I haven’t met any Rangers here who are like that.  Reese Bennett might sorta fit, but only if they haven’t seen him workin’ on an assignment.”

       “You’re right about Bennett.  He does give that impression, but he’s one of my best men—certainly the most experienced man in Company B.”  Parmalee had been looking from one to the other of the two outlaws, fascinated with their quick grasp of the situation and the way they seemed to know what the other was thinking.  His hunch was already paying off.

       “You don’t want them to know we’re Rangers,” continued Heyes, feeling rather strange.  He still hadn’t gotten used to describing himself and Kid Curry, in all seriousness, as a pair of Texas Rangers.  “If this is an inside job, that oughta work out real well.  You think we can trip the banker up some way?  He might get careless around us and let something slip?”

       “That’s one idea,” replied the captain.  “That might prove to be the best way to work it, but I’m leaving the details up to you.  I want to prevent the robbery if possible, catch the robbers, recover the cash if any is taken, identify the guilty parties, and get hold of whatever evidence you’ll need to convict them in court.  Cooper and Hunter will work with you on all that, but I’ve told them that they’re to keep themselves open for suggestions from you.  They know you’re former bank robbers and have expertise that they don’t.”  He noticed a slightly alarmed expression on Heyes’s face, and added, “They don’t know your real names, which probably wouldn’t mean anything to them anyway.  But in any case, you’re working for me.  They’re looking forward to having you join them.  It’s going to take all four of you to handle this assignment.”

       “Then we’d better get started,” said Heyes, rising to his feet.  “Do you want us to leave this afternoon?”

       “That’s up to you.  It’s about an eight-hour ride, which gives you plenty of time to get there before you meet up with Cooper and Hunter tomorrow afternoon.  Draw whatever supplies you need from our stores—ammunition, trail provisions, grain for your horses—and leave when you’re ready.  Tomorrow morning would be soon enough.”

       Heyes and Kid looked at each other again.  “We’ll probably ride out late tonight,” said Heyes.  “Then we’ll wire you tomorrow for the meeting place, if you haven’t heard before we leave.”

***   ***   ***

       Miss Wellington raised her eyes from the book she was pretending to read, realizing that someone was standing beside her.  The sight of buff-gold trousers tucked into high split cowhide boots caused her to drop the book into her lap, unheeded.  She looked up to meet Hannibal Heyes’s ready smile.

       “Parmalee’s sending us up to Dos Rios,” Heyes explained.  “We’re leavin’ late tonight.  I’m not sure how long it’ll take—maybe a few days, but Chad and Erik are waiting for us there, and the captain thinks it’s gonna take all four of us to do the job.”

       “Take care of yourself.  You, too, Thaddeus,” she added, noticing Kid standing a few feet away, just within earshot.

       “Of course we will,” replied Heyes, “but what I wanted to ask is if you’d let me take you to dinner properly before we go, here in the hotel.  I think they have the best food in town.  Or do you think lunch with me was enough for the day?”  He grinned.

       “Why, Joshua, how kind of you!”  She was really surprised, remembering her wish of the previous evening that Heyes might occasionally invite her out for dinner, and dismissing that as unlikely.  “I’ll have to change my dress.”  She laid the book, which she had found in the lobby, aside and stood up.

       “I don’t think they run to much formality here.”

       “Oh, no, but I shall need to wear something besides my riding skirt.  When would suit?”

       “Shall we say about seven?  I’ll put on a coat and tie.”

       Paula looked past Heyes to his partner.

       Curry shook his head.  “I’ll find myself somethin’ to eat over at the café,” he assured her.

       The three of them went to the desk to get their keys and ascended the stairs together, separating at the top of the steps.

***   ***   ***

       A few minutes after Paula had entered her room, there was a knock on the door.  Recognizing her brother’s particular knock, she went to let him in, intending to explain that he couldn’t stay too long, because she meant to change her dress before going to supper with Heyes. 

       She didn’t get the chance.  The moment the door was open, Paul slipped in quickly, shutting the door behind him.  “All right.  What’d he do?”

       Paula waved him to the chair while she sat on the edge of the bed to pull off her riding boots.  “Nothing to which you could object.  He kissed me.” 

       “That depends on what else he did, or said, or perhaps on what he did not say,” replied Paul, dropping on one knee to pull the boots off.  “Let me do that.”

       “He asked why we left Britain in such a hurry, and I told him.  I said I had felt very much alone—of course, that was before you came home from Oxford and figured out a way to get me away from Wellwood House.  Just before he kissed me, he said he didn’t want me to feel alone like that ever again.”  She trailed off, the distracted expression which had worried her brother returning to her face.

       “Well, I suppose that’s a start,” he said, rising and setting the boots to one side.

       “A start?”

       “A start on doing something sensible, like telling you his intentions, or asking you to marry him.”

       “Paul!  I don’t think you can expect … I mean, you shouldn’t …”

       “So you love him, but you think he’s a scoundrel?”  He smiled a little and went on, not giving her a chance to voice her outrage.  “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that he came to see me yesterday.  No, I didn’t betray your confidence—at least, I did my best not to—but we had quite a long talk, and after a few initial misunderstandings, I believe it was fairly successful on all sides.”  Seeing her beginning to divest herself of the tightly fitting bodice, he stepped over to assist, hanging the bodice up in the wardrobe while his sister smoothed her chemisette and began attempting to put her hair to rights.

       Trying to accept this new information calmly, Paula asked, “What did you talk about, or should I ask?”

       “Believe it or not, he came to ask permission to walk out with you.  A little late, but his heart’s in the right place.  I told him a bit about our background, particularly on the Scottish side, so he would understand our attitude towards outlaws who have gone straight, and he told me a lot about his, trying to prove to me how ineligible he was even to speak to you—at least that’s the impression I got.”  He told her what Heyes had said about the Shakers, the Valparaiso School for Waywards, Cedric Seymour, and the beginnings of his outlaw career.

       “Lost his parents at the age of ten!  Oh, poor boy!  Both of them orphaned!  And cousins!”  Paula was more struck by the tragedy than she was, for the moment, interested in how the talk between Paul and Heyes had turned out.

       “Yes,” agreed Paul.  “But you see where that goes, don’t you?  It means he’s had almost no female guidance or experience with decent women since his mother died.  If you look at it that way, it’s not really surprising that he sometimes seems not to know what he’s doing in matters of the heart, however clever he may be in dealing with most other things.”

       Since this was very much what Kid Curry had told her, Paula simply nodded.

       “I told him that I couldn’t ask for anyone better as a husband for you, if that was the direction in which he was thinking of moving.  We left it at that.  I was very pleased with the outcome, as was he, I think.”  Watching her pull the pins out of her hair, Paul picked up the hairbrush.  “Do you want me to help with that?”

       “No, thank you,” she murmured.  “It’s kind of you to offer, though.  Heyes has asked to take me to supper in the hotel dining room this evening, so I thought I’d better redo my hair.”

       “A formal invitation to supper?  That’s interesting.”

       “Yes, it is, but … Paul, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your talking with Heyes and encouraging him, and telling me about it, but … I know you want to help, but I’m not certain there’s much more you can do without causing unnecessary difficulties.  You’ve let him know where he stands with you.  That’s more than enough right now.”

       He chuckled.  “All right.  I shall officially withdraw.  Just keep me informed, if you please, of any startling new developments.”

       “I shall.  And Paul?  Please pray.”

       “Don’t you think I’ve been doing that?  Have a good time this evening.”  He bent to kiss her on the cheek and then left the room.

***   ***   ***

       Chad and Erik left the bank in Dos Rios and walked over to check into the hotel.  They had spoken to Mr. Jarvis, the president of the bank, had examined his security arrangements, and had pronounced them adequate, as far as could be ascertained.

       “What’d you think?” asked Chad.  “He was awfully set on convincing us that there was some big Mexican gang on the way.  Even told us the road he thought they’d come in on.  A little too much information?”

       “Exactly,” agreed Erik.  “If he’s not in touch with the gang, how would he know how large it was, or which way they might come?”

       “He seemed awfully anxious to have us ride out of town to see if we could find them and stop them before they got here.  I know we said we’d do it, but …”

       “We can do that and make contact with Smith and Jones at the same time, and then the four of us can return to town by different routes.  We might see something interesting if Jarvis thinks we’re out of town.”

***   ***   ***

       Heyes strolled up to one of the teller windows and asked for change for a twenty-dollar gold piece.  Casually, he looked around the bank lobby.  The door into the back premises was open, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the big safe.  Seeing the maker’s name and date on its face, he smiled.  It was a Pierce & Hamilton 1873, which he could open without the use of explosives.  The beginnings of an idea were in his mind.

       Later, meeting with Erik and Chad in their hotel room while most of the citizens of the town were eating lunch, Heyes explained.  “I’d like to take one of you with me and open the bank’s safe tonight.  I’d just like to see how much money is in there at the end of what is supposed to be a normal banking day, especially since they think they’re expecting a robbery tomorrow.”

       “You think it will be an inside job?” Erik asked.

       “I’m pretty sure of it.  But I want you with me to make a note of whatever we find in that safe—or don’t find.”

       Erik nodded.  “A little past midnight, then?  Meet me here.”

       When the bank closed for the evening, Kid and Chad watched the bank president as he went home, looking for anything suspicious.  They saw him meet with the owner of the saloon, one of the town's leading citizens, on the front porch of his house.  Chad saw enough to make him think that the banker gave something to the other man.  Exchanging quick glances, the pair followed the other man home to make sure they knew where his house was.  There might be a private safe in one or both houses, where anything removed from the bank might end up being stashed.

      

       Heyes and Erik slipped quietly in through a window at the bank, encountering surprisingly little trouble in opening it.  Erik kept watch, dividing his attention between the window, the street, and Heyes’s work on the safe.  When the safe was open, which only took Heyes about ten minutes, Erik came over and knelt down beside him to peer into it.  It was almost empty.  Heyes checked inside the various drawers, picking the locks as he went, while Erik made notes of what he found.  Silently, Heyes relocked the drawers, swung the heavy door shut, and set the dial exactly where it had been when they came.  They left the bank as quietly as they had come and returned to the hotel, where the other two were waiting.

       “Only about a hundred dollars in the safe,” said Heyes, with satisfaction.  “Enough to open the teller windows the next day—that's all.  Unless they just shipped out most of their funds …”

       “They didn’t.  I asked about that,” interrupted Chad.  “In fact, I suggested they might want to send some of their money to safety elsewhere.  Jarvis said he wouldn’t dream of it.”

       “It would appear that the robbery has already taken place,” said Erik.  “Whatever happens tomorrow will be staged.”

       “Yeah, that’s how I see it,” said Heyes.  The other men nodded in agreement.  “So how do we proceed?”  In spite of Parmalee’s assurances that the two Rangers would listen to his suggestions, he thought it was better to defer to them if at all possible.  He was more knowledgeable about robbing banks, but they were the experienced lawmen.

       “We’ll have to catch whoever has taken it in possession of the cash,” said Chad.  “Jones and I know where Jarvis lives, and we followed the saloon owner home after Jarvis met with him.  The banker’s got a safe in his house, and probably the other man does as well.  Here’s what I think we should do.”

      

       The next day, Kid and Heyes went to the café for breakfast, keeping an eye on who was passing in the street.  They saw Jarvis and the other bank employees unlock and enter the bank, and shortly afterward they saw the saloon owner open up his establishment. 

       Erik went into the bank, putting himself in a position to see and be seen.  He hoped to attract the attention of the would-be robbers to himself, to give the others a chance to act, and to this end had decided to wear a short jacket of rust and cream brocade over black trousers, set off by a matching brocaded hat. 

  

       Kid lounged into the bank lobby about ten minutes after Erik had entered, taking up a position to one side of the teller counter.  Meanwhile, Chad and Heyes went to the bank president's house.  Once they had ascertained that no one was home, they entered quietly and Heyes opened the wall safe that Chad had seen the previous evening.  He and Heyes made notes on the denominations of the bills they found, closed the safe, and went to the saloon owner’s home, where they repeated their actions.  The contents of the two safes yielded a considerable sum in currency printed by the First Bank of Dos Rios, the total roughly matching the amount that the bank was reported to have had on hand.  Leaving the money where it was, the two men returned to the bank.  Heyes went around to the side window where he could have a view of the safe inside the bank, while Chad remained on watch outside.

       Several men, Mexicans by their appearance, rode into town, dismounted, and went into the bank lobby, leaving their horses tied outside with one man to watch them.  Strolling casually across the street, Chad came up behind the lone watcher, drawing his revolver.  “ _Manos arriba, Señor_ _._ ” 

       The man jumped in surprise, but instead of putting his hands up as commanded, he turned to face the Ranger with a puzzled expression.  “Huh?”  Seeing the gun levelled at him, he broke off, raising his hands as Chad cocked it.  That was a threat which required no words.

       “Turn around,” Cooper commanded shortly.  When the man complied, he de-cocked his pistol, reversed it, and struck at the base of the skull, dropping the would-be robber to the ground.  Disarming his prisoner, the Ranger led the party’s horses into a side street and tied them there, then returned to the door of the bank, where he could hear what was going on.  He now had evidence that the supposedly Mexican robbers were not, in fact, Mexicans at all—at least the man watching the horses had understood no Spanish.

       Inside the bank, the five invaders took a quick look around.  They saw two tellers, the bank president, another man who had stood up from a desk in the corner when he saw men entering with guns drawn, and, this early in the morning, only two bank customers.  Casually covering the slender young man with curly brown hair who stood at one end of the counter, along with the four bank employees, the robbers directed most of their attention to the other customer, a man in rust and cream brocade jacket and hat.  Such colorful dress was not common anywhere in the Anglo part of Texas, and seemed markedly out of place in the lobby of a small-town bank.  He was armed, but the fancy nickel-plated Colt with engraving on the barrel and staghorn grips looked more like a part of his dress, designed to draw the eye, than a serious weapon.  For a moment, the leader of the gang forgot what he had been going to say and simply stared. 

       The leader’s gaze went briefly to the bank president’s face.  Jarvis gave an infinitesimal nod, upon which the outlaw said sharply, “All right, everybody get your hands up.  This is a stick-up.  Just cooperate and nobody’ll get hurt.”

       Jarvis, trying to indicate which man they had to beware of, exclaimed, “Hunter, you’re the Ranger!  Why didn’t you do something?  Now my bank will lose all the money we’ve got here!”  There was an edge of panic in his voice, mingled with outrage.

       Erik Hunter smiled briefly.  They had been right.  The bank president and the robbers were in this scheme together, and Jarvis had just proven it by pointing him out to the robbers.  “I had no opportunity to do anything, Mr. Jarvis.  I suggest we all remain calm.  Give them what they want, and they will depart.”  His soft foreign accent was marked, calling even more attention to himself and taking the robbers’ minds away from the need to cover Thaddeus Jones, who was standing behind all but one of them.

       “Jarvis, eh?  You’re the president of the bank?  You can open the safe for us and put the contents in a sack.  Get moving.”  The leader gestured with his gun, and Jarvis obediently led the way into the room at the back where the safe was located.  For a moment, both were out of sight from the bank lobby.  Neither noticed the man standing just outside the window, watching every move they made.  One of the other outlaws quickly gathered up the money lying openly on the counter in front of the two tellers.

       When Jarvis and the leader came back out to the lobby, the outlaw bearing a bulging flour sack over one shoulder, Erik knew this was the time for the Rangers to make the move they had planned—now that they had incontrovertible evidence of a bank robbery having taken place.  He stepped forward, keeping his hands up, a worried expression on his face.  “You’d better not try to take that money out of here,” he warned, in a loud, agitated tone which anyone who knew him would have recognized as assumed. 

       The sudden move and the pre-arranged speech distracted the robbers, all of whom turned to stare at Erik.  It also gave Chad, listening at the door, and Kid Curry, standing by the left end of the counter with his hands raised, the signal to move. 

       As the front door was pushed open from the outside, Curry dropped his right hand, faster than the eye could see, drawing his Colt, cocking it, and firing in one smooth motion.  His first bullet grazed the right arm of the robber who was holding a gun on him, causing the man to drop his gun.  Kid flung himself to his right to evade a possible return shot and fired again.  The leader dropped the bag he was carrying to clap a hand to his forearm, where blood was drenching his sleeve.  Two of the other robbers, their attention drawn from the men they were supposed to be guarding by the sudden shooting, levelled their revolvers at the curly-haired gunman.  Before they could get off any shots, both were dropped by well-placed shots from Chad, at the door, and Erik, whom everyone had temporarily forgotten.  Tucking his shoulder and diving to the floor in a roll to evade return fire from the fifth man, Chad came to his feet within inches of the last robber.  He used the momentum from his roll to put extra force behind the left hook he aimed at the robber’s jaw, knocking the man into the counter where he sagged to the floor, unconscious. 

       Almost as soon as it had started, the shooting was over.  Two of the men had flesh wounds, two were dead, and one lay on the floor, out cold.  Jarvis, who had wisely frozen in place while the shooting was going on, smiled and moved forward with his hand held out.  “Well, that was impressive!  We sure appreciate that, Mr. Cooper!  And this young man here was a big help, too!”

       “Hold it right there, Mr. Jarvis,” Erik warned in a soft, deadly tone.  “No, don’t pick up that bag.  Chad and I have some questions to take up with you before this robbery can be considered officially over.”

       “But …”  The bank president was astonished.  He stared from Erik to Chad, aggrieved.

       “My partner is right, Mr. Jarvis.  There are quite a few unanswered questions here.  No, don’t move.”  Chad cocked his gun again, this time levelling it at Jarvis.  “You’re under arrest.  Complicity in the bank robbery.  Conspiracy to interfere with a peace officer in the performance of his duties.  Unlawful removal of funds entrusted to your care.”

       The front door was pushed open again and Heyes entered from the street, with the news that he had seen no one open the safe to give anybody any money.  He had, however, seen Jarvis and one of the robbers enter the room where the safe was located and pick up a bag lying in the corner beside the safe, already full of something to make it look like it held money.  Before Jarvis could open his mouth to refute the accusation, Curry walked over, picked the bag up from the floor, turned it upside down, and shook it briskly.  Out fell some stacks of what proved to be cut-up newspapers, bound to resemble bundles of currency.

       Seeing the look of shocked outrage on Jarvis’s face, Erik said, “Allow me to introduce our other partners.  Ranger Thaddeus Jones and Ranger Joshua Smith, sent here on special assignment to coordinate with Ranger Cooper and me about the robbery you told us you were expecting.”  He indicated the men as he spoke.

      

       With help from the senior teller, the bank’s safe was opened and its contents noted to be missing.  The teller was able to supply them with the denominations and totals of the bills and coins which had been placed in the safe on the previous evening at closing time. 

       After Erik had arrested the saloon owner, Chad and Heyes took the teller and both conspirators with them and went to retrieve the money from the personal safes in the two conspirators’ homes, leaving Curry to guard the robbers.  With the evidence provided by the head teller’s records, they were able to match the stolen funds to the money found in the two safes, and see the currency safely returned to the bank.

       Putting their six prisoners in the town’s jail for the night, a favor readily extended to them by the local marshal, the Rangers retired to the hotel room shared by Chad and Erik to discuss the successful conclusion of the assignment and write up the report that had to be turned in to Parmalee when they reached Laredo with their prisoners on the following day.

       Heyes offered to write the report for all of them if Chad and Erik would tell him what to say.  Although his command of written English was quite good, Chad loathed the report-writing task and readily took Heyes up on his offer.

       “By the way,” Heyes said, looking up and setting his pen, point down, in the standish, “do I have to put in here that I opened three safes without knowing the combinations?  The captain doesn’t really need to know that, does he?”

       Chad and Erik looked quickly at each other.  “I wouldn’t think so,” replied Chad.  “I suppose if he asked us in person, we’d have to tell him, but he usually doesn’t want to know the details.  He told us to come here, prevent the robbery, catch the robbers, and recover the cash.  He told you two to find out if the banker was involved.  We’ve done all that and we’re bringing in the men.  That’s all he wants.”

       “However,” rejoined Erik, “Chad and I were talking about that, Joshua, and wondering where you learned that skill.”

       Heyes grinned deprecatingly.  He always enjoyed receiving compliments.  “Well, Parmalee told you that my partner and I are retired from the bank robbing business.  I learned it on the job, you might say.  It really depends on the model of safe and how old it is, though.  The big new safes that banks are getting now have been fixed so they’re very hard to open by manipulating the tumblers.  That’s one of the reasons I quit.”

       Chad glanced over at Curry, who was quietly cleaning his gun while the others talked.  “I need to clean my gun as well.  I can’t say I didn’t know you were fast, Thaddeus, because we’ve had a couple of draw and shoot contests since you arrived in Laredo.  But I’ve never seen anybody do what you did—draw and fire while somebody was actually holding a gun on you.  I’m not sure I could have managed that.”

       “Oh, I think you could,” drawled Kid.  “It doesn’t work unless somebody distracts the man with the gun for a second or two.  And you did that when you opened the front door so sudden.  I was waitin’ for the right time.  If you want to try practicing that move when we get back to Laredo, I’m agreeable.  We can test each other.”

       “Sounds fine.”  Chad shot a speculative look at Heyes.  “I know it’s none of our business, and this is Texas, where men don’t usually ask what a man’s name was before he came here, but after watching the two of you use your skills on this assignment, Erik and I wondered what your real names are.  I figure you aren’t wanted in Texas or the captain wouldn’t have taken you on, so it wouldn’t do any harm if you told us.  Just curious, that’s all.  It wouldn’t go any further.  That’s if you don’t mind.”

       Heyes and Curry exchanged glances.  Heyes decided Cooper was right.  It wouldn’t do any harm, and besides, he was getting tired of being called ‘Joshua’ by men whom he was coming to regard as friends.  “All right, but like you said, it doesn’t go any further.  Keep it between us and Captain Parmalee—and the Wellingtons.  They both know—they were passengers on a train that we held up in Wyoming two and a half years ago.  I used to lead a gang up that way, but my cousin here and I went straight in October of ’seventy-nine.  My name’s Hannibal Heyes, and his is Jed Curry, but he usually goes by ‘Kid’.  And we’re still wanted in Wyoming, so we’d appreciate you keepin’ that quiet.”

       “Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry.  Mean anything to you, Erik?”

       “No, I cannot say that it does.”

       “Oh, yeah, wait a minute.  I was in the captain’s office one day—I guess it’d be almost two years ago now, when he got a package of wanted posters in by special shipment.  Lawmen in other jurisdictions send us those every once in a while.  A lot of the ones I saw had to do with men wanted in Wyoming and Colorado.  I think two of ’em had your names on ’em.  Heck, I don’t know if the captain still has those.  There’d be no reason for him to keep ’em—don’t mean anything to us down here.”

       A wide smile spread over Heyes’s face.  “That’s good to hear.”

       “Yeah,” his partner agreed.  “Just think, Heyes, a nice place that isn’t in Mexico or out East somewhere, and they don’t know who we are and don’t care.”

      

      


	8. A Momentous Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon returning to Laredo after the assignment in Dos Rios, Heyes and Curry find that their friends the Wellington twins have left town on assignments of their own. Captain Parmalee's reluctance to say where they have gone causes Heyes to revise his own plans.

**Laredo, Texas, January 25th, 1881**

Heyes eagerly entered the hotel after caring for his horse, his partner a few steps behind him.  Signing the register and retrieving the key to their room, he quickly scanned the pigeonholes.  The desk clerk distracted him by producing a thick envelope sealed, rather surprisingly, with dark blue wax.

       “There’s a letter here for you, Mr. Smith.”

       With a brief word of thanks, Heyes nodded to Kid and headed for the stairs.  He had seen Miss Wellington’s initials on the flap above the seal and decided quickly that he would rather open the letter in the privacy of their hotel room.

       Curry followed his partner into the room, shutting the door behind him.  “Bad news?”

       “I don’t know yet,” Heyes responded.  “Her room key was in the pigeonhole, so she’s not in the hotel right now.”  He broke the seal, an ornate scrollwork capital letter **W** , and stared in astonishment at three flower seed packets tucked into the envelope behind the single sheet of pale blue writing paper.  Leaving the packets where they were for the moment, he unfolded the letter.       

>                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Hotel Cosmopolitan, Laredo, January 21st∫81
> 
>      Dearest,
> 
>      I am being sent away on an important mission for the Rangers, requiring a fluent knowledge of Spanish.  It is not expected to be dangerous, but it may take some time, possibly about ten days, before I return to Laredo.  As I shall not see you before I go, I wished to assure you that I expect to return in good time, by the end of this month at the latest.  You will be constantly in my thoughts and prayers while we are apart.  I remain, with much love, yours very truly,
> 
>                                                         Paula Anne Wellington
> 
>      P.S. If you have questions about the enclosures, Kid should be able to assist you.
> 
>                                                         P.A.W.

       “Kid?”  Heyes was still staring at the salutation.  Never in his life had he received a letter which began by addressing him as ‘Dearest.’  He savoured the sensation for a moment and then looked up.  “Why would she send me packets of flower seeds?  She says here I should ask you about them.”

       “Flower seeds?”  Kid came closer to look as his partner showed him the contents of the envelope.  “Oh, I get it.  You know, that’s clever of her, to use seed packets.  I suppose she couldn’t find flower cards here in Laredo.  Keep them in order, the way they were in the envelope, and I’ll look ’em up.”  He retrieved his travelling writing kit from his saddlebag and extracted _The Gentleman’s Guide to Letter-Writing_ , turning to the flower list in the back.

       Heyes had never seen the little book before, and realized his partner must have been carefully hiding it for fear of being subjected to unwelcome teasing.  He decided to say nothing about it, especially since Kid was helping him.  “It’s some kind of secret code?” 

       ”Well, yeah, in a way.  I guess it’s for girls—well, anybody, really—to use when it’s awkward to put what you want to say in plain English.”  He looked up, keeping his finger in the book.  “Lillian sent me some of those, and Paula helped me figure out what they meant, with this list here and another one she found at the flower shop.  What’s the one on top?”

       “Chrysanthemums,” replied Heyes, removing the packet from the envelope and turning it in his hands.

       “What color?  There’s different meanings, depending on what color they are.”

       “Red—at least that’s what the picture is.”

 

       “O.K., that just means ‘Love’.  That’s good, ain’t it?” 

       Curious now, Heyes picked up the second packet.  “The next one’s tulips.  Red tulips.”

 

       Kid read out the meaning.  “That’s ‘Believe Me,’ and the second meaning is ‘Declaration of Love.’  I’d say you’re gettin’ a really nice letter, wouldn’t you?  What’s the last one?”  He glanced at the packet of daffodil seeds and quickly turned the pages to the names of flowers that began with the letter D.  Reading the definition, he whistled softly.

       “What’s it say?”  Heyes almost snatched the book away.

       Silently, his cousin held out the book, his index finger marking the spot.

       Heyes read the definition.  _Regard._   And just under that, the second meaning.  _Unrequited Love._   He read it again.  “‘Unrequited Love’?  Why would she send me that?  I love her—she knows I do!”

 

       “Does she?  How?”

       “Well, I—I kissed her!  I even took her out to dinner, just so she’d know …”  Heyes’s confident explanation trailed off as he caught sight of the expression on his cousin’s face.

       Kid sighed.  “Sit down, Heyes.  Let me ask you something.  Has Paula told you she loves you?  How many times?”

       “Sure.  At least three—twice out on our lunch-time ride last week, and then here in the letter.  That’s not countin’ the flower messages.”

       “And how many times have you told her you love _her_?”

       “Um … well, I …” Heyes stopped.  “I don’t think I actually said it, but …”

       “Uh-huh.  How’s she supposed to know it, then?”

       “Because it’s obvious!”

       “No, Heyes, it ain’t.  Women need to be told some things right out.  Look, you said you thought that was the first time she’d been kissed …”

       Nodding, Heyes interrupted.  “I don’t think, I know.  I couldn’t mistake it.  Kind of a good feeling, being able to do that for her.”  The crooked smile tipped up the corner of his mouth.  “Anyway, she enjoyed it.  I made sure of that.”

       “She probably did,” said Curry drily.  “But that don’t tell her nothin’ about whether you love her—only that you’ve had lots of experience, which she already knew.  She took quite a risk, lettin’ you kiss her,” he added shrewdly, “and from this daffodil message, I’d say right about now she’s wonderin’ if she made a mistake, maybe makin’ you think she’s the wrong kind of girl, somethin’ like that.”

       “No!  She couldn’t … I’ve got to find her,” said Heyes, coming to his feet and stuffing Paula’s letter into his inner vest pocket.  “She said it was a Ranger assignment, so Captain Parmalee ought to know where she went.”  He laid his hand on the door handle, then realized that Curry was still sitting on the bed, watching him.  “I’m gonna go talk to him.  You comin’ with me?”

       “Sure, I’ll come.”  Kid rose and picked up his hat.  “But what makes you so sure Parmalee will tell you anything?”  He locked the door behind him before turning to follow Heyes down the passageway to the head of the front stairs.

       “Why wouldn’t he?”  Heyes led the way downstairs, where they handed in their room key, then headed across the lobby to the big double doors.

       “I don’t know,” said Kid slowly.  “But don’t you think it’s kinda funny?  We get sent out of town on a job with Erik and Chad, and when we come back, _both_ the Wellingtons have checked out of the hotel and gone.”  At his partner’s look of surprise, he added, “Yeah, Paul’s gone, too.  His key’s in the pigeonhole, and his horse is gone from the livery stable.  In fact, all three of their horses are gone.  You didn’t notice that?”

       Heyes digested this.  “You think Captain Parmalee did it on purpose?”

       “Looks like _somebody_ did it on purpose.  I told you, Heyes, half the Rangers in Company B were watchin’ you, the way you were courtin’ Paula, only not actually doin’ anything.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Parmalee was worried as well.  And he wouldn’t have known that you and Paula reached an understanding last week.”

       “No, that’s true.”  They had reached the Ranger office by this time, and Heyes pushed the door open with more confidence than he felt.

***   ***   ***

       Captain Parmalee looked up from reading several reports that were spread out in front of him.  He was alone in the room, and greeted them with a welcoming smile.  “Heyes, Curry.  Come in and sit down.”  He waved them to seats.  “This report that you turned in on that confusing case in Dos Rios is excellent.  Not only that, it’s well written, which I don’t often have the pleasure of seeing.”  He raised an eyebrow and looked from one man to the other.

       “I wrote it,” admitted Heyes.  “I read a lot of books and magazines—fiction, mostly—when I have the time.  Guess I picked up some ideas about how to write.”

       The captain nodded.  The two outlaws were full of surprises.  The English in the report was not perfect, but it was better than that of any other man under his command except for Chad Cooper, who had been educated at a private school in New Orleans.

       Not wanting to waste any more time, and encouraged by the Ranger captain’s praise, Heyes decided to broach the topic which had brought him into the office.  “Captain, when we got back to the hotel, we discovered that our friends the Wellingtons were gone.  Miss Wellington left a letter for me—she said she’d be coming back, but there are some things I need to see her about, the sooner the better.  She said she was on a Ranger assignment, so I thought you could tell us where she went.”

       Parmalee frowned.  “I could, but I don’t think that’s wise.”

       “But I need to find her!  We, uh—she and I had a good talk last week, before I left for Dos Rios, but there are still a couple of things I need to straighten out, things I need to tell her.”  Heyes was starting to feel the beginnings of something very like panic, realizing that Kid’s guess might have been right—maybe Parmalee didn’t _want_ him to find Miss Wellington.  He decided to come right out and say what he was thinking.  The captain respected an honest, above-board approach.

       “Look, sir.”  _No harm in observing the formalities, after all_.  Heyes went on, “It seems kinda strange that Kid and I go off on a job that takes us out of town, and when we get back, both Miss Wellington and her brother are also out of town—like maybe somebody wanted to separate us—her and me, I mean.”

       Parmalee raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

       “What I’m tryin’ to say is, there’s no need.  Miss Wellington and I understand each other just fine.  She doesn’t want … she’s not trying to get away from me or anything like that.”  He came to his feet suddenly, drawing Paula’s letter from his pocket.  “Here, read the letter she left for me.  You’ll see what I mean.”

       The captain opened the envelope and withdrew the letter.  “You’re asking me to read this?”

       “Yeah, go ahead.”

       Parmalee read the short note, folded it, put it in the envelope, and handed it back, his expression carefully neutral.  “Yes, that seems quite clear.  But she says she’ll be back in a week from now.  What you have to say to her can’t wait?”

       “No.  No, I don’t think it can,” replied Heyes.  “It’s been too long already.”  He stopped, taking a deep breath.  “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”  As Parmalee still said nothing, he added, “We can’t get married right now—I’d have to wait until we get our amnesty, or until I can get straight with the law some other way if the amnesty falls through.  But I know she’ll be willing to wait—she understands all that.”

       “One question, Heyes.  Does Wellington know what you just told me?”

       “Yeah.  Well, he asked my intentions, anyway, said he approved.  That was a week ago last Monday, the day before Paula and I …”

       The Ranger captain stood up and walked over to the large wall map.  “I’ll tell you where to find her, on one condition.  I want your word—both of you—that you won’t try to go into Mexico after her, _unless_ …” he paused, “she’s overdue, which will mean something’s gone wrong.  If Americans are suspected of being involved in this situation, it would put the state of Texas into a very awkward position.  You simply can’t be seen over there.  Miss Wellington can pass for a Spaniard, or a Mexican of an old _hidalgo_ family, but you can’t, unless your Spanish is better than you’ve indicated.”

       Kid came to stand beside his partner, who had risen.  “You’ve got my word, Captain.”

       Heyes nodded.  “You’ve got mine as well.”

       Giving an incisive nod, Parmalee tapped the map.  “She was to deliver some documents to a contact in Allende, here in Coahuila.  She’s to cross back into Texas here, at Eagle Pass, by the end of the day on the 27th, two days from now, at the latest.  If she doesn’t reach Carrizo Springs”—he indicated a little settlement about 40 miles east of the border—where her brother is to meet her, by the end of the day on the 29th, it will mean something’s happened, and you can go into Mexico after her as long as you don’t call attention to the Rangers, or the government of Texas.  Is that clear?”

       “Yes, sir,” said Heyes, still attempting to observe the semi-military formality that Parmalee preferred to maintain, but struggling at the same time not to be overcome by a sense of outrage at the danger that Paula had been sent into.  It was no good.  “You sent her into Mexico, alone, without any kind of escort, not even her brother?  That’s a lot more dangerous for her than getting involved with me could ever be!”

       “The job’s not supposed to be dangerous, other than the usual dangers of travel.  It _is_ sensitive, however.  Miss Wellington was the best one for the task.  She’s done things of this sort for us before,” replied the captain.  “But I understand your objections.  And I don’t consider you a danger to her—except, perhaps, to her peace of mind.  That’s something you’ll have to address for yourself.”

       “I intend to,” said Heyes, somewhat grimly.

       “Do you plan to return here, or would you rather draw your pay now and leave that question open?”

       Heyes and Kid exchanged glances, as was their habit when there was a need for consultation.  “I think we’d better draw our pay, Captain, and give you back these badges.  I’m not sure of our plans right now.”

       Parmalee bent to open the small safe he kept in the office, not troubling to shield the combination dial from view.  From what Cooper and Hunter had told him, Hannibal Heyes could have opened this small office safe any time he had a mind to.  Withdrawing a small bag, he counted out thirty dollars in gold to each man, then replaced the bag in the safe.  “You’d better keep the badges, as long as you promise not to misuse them—by claiming to be on a Ranger assignment when you aren’t, for example.  They might help you if you get into a sticky situation with the law in another jurisdiction.  You can also give my name if someone wishes to verify that you’re working with us.  And there will be work waiting here for you any time.  We’ve appreciated having the benefit of your expertise.”

       Heyes looked at his partner again.  Both men were surprised and grateful at the unexpected offer to let them keep the Ranger badges.

       “I have one thing to ask in return,” continued Parmalee, looking at Heyes.  “I’d like to hear how things go between you and Miss Wellington.  Drop me a note or a wire, or send a message.”  He held out his hand. 

       The irrepressible dimple peeped out as Heyes’s ready smile came.  “I will.”  The two outlaws shook hands with the Ranger captain and left the office, heading back toward the hotel.

***   ***   ***

       “How soon do you want to leave?”  Kid glanced sideways at his partner as they walked across the street.  “I know—you want to leave as soon as we can get ready.  But if you want my advice …”

       “I’m listening.”

       “I’d say we should let our horses rest up overnight—and us, too, if you think you can sleep.  Otherwise, we’ll have to stop fairly early and camp out on the trail tonight.  Why give up the good beds and the hotel room and the breakfast if we don’t have to?”

       Reluctantly, Heyes nodded.  He knew Kid was right.  They had just done the ride from Dos Rios, and their horses weren’t rested.  There was no sense in leaving too early and having to stop to give the horses extra rest, or getting to Eagle Pass far too soon to meet Miss Wellington.

***   ***   ***

       In the morning, having taken leave of the Rangers they had gotten to know, particularly Erik Hunter and Chad Cooper, Heyes and Curry stocked up on trail supplies, saddled up, and left Laredo, riding north to Eagle Pass.  They expected to cover the 125 miles easily in the two days at their disposal, as the terrain was fairly flat, their horses were eager to travel, and the road was good.  There was another road, as good or better and slightly shorter, on the other side of the Rio Grande, but they held to their promise not to enter Mexico, and stayed on the U.S. side of the river.  As it happened, the road went through Carrizo Springs on its way to Eagle Pass, so they would be able to watch for Miss Wellington from the moment they left that town.  If she crossed the border sooner than expected, they couldn’t possibly miss her, taking this road.

      

**Eagle Pass, Texas, Thursday, January 27th**

After an uneventful trip from Laredo, the two partners arrived at the border crossing, just outside the small town of Eagle Pass, about an hour before sunset on Thursday evening.  Across the river, the Mexican town of Piedras Negras drowsed in the late afternoon sun.  There was no sign of anyone—man, woman, or horse—anywhere along the road in either direction.

       They reined up just to the side of the road and Heyes dismounted to examine the surface for recent tracks—anything that would give them some idea of how to proceed.  He knew the look of the shoes that Miss Wellington’s black Arabian wore, as well as the tracks of the Morgan-Arabian cross she was driving in the buggy, and hoped to find some indication that she had already crossed the river.

       It didn’t take long before he saw what he was looking for.  There were other tracks in the dust of the road, and in the softer ground of the river bank, but there plain to be seen were the hoofmarks of the two horses, one behind the other, and of a narrow-wheeled buggy.  Heyes was not quite as good a tracker as he liked to make out to Kid, but he could see that the tracks had been made within the past two or three hours.  They should be able to catch up with her easily before dark.

       Then he saw something else, not quite so cheering.  “Kid, look at this.”

       Curry swung down from his saddle and came closer.  Heyes pointed.  “There are her tracks—both horses and the buggy—but then there are these.  They crossed the river after she did—you can see where some of her tracks are overlaid by theirs.”

       “Yeah,” replied Kid, squatting on his heels to get a closer look.  “I’d say four, maybe five riders, travelling in a tight bunch.”  He looked up to meet his partner’s eyes.  “Might not mean anything.  People cross the border for all sorts of reasons.”

       The cousins stared at each other for a moment.  Somehow that last sentence was not reassuring.  Heyes abruptly straightened up and turned to remount his horse.  “Maybe she’s being followed.”

       Kid nodded.  Grasping his saddle horn, he vaulted easily into the saddle without using the stirrups, and turned the dark bay gelding away from the Rio Grande.  “We can look for more tracks on the other side of the town.”

      

       Ten miles farther along, a soft patch of ground where the road to Carrizo Springs crossed a shallow gully which had some water along its course at this time of year gave them their answer.  Miss Wellington’s tracks were still plain to be seen, and equally plain, now quite clear as they spread out to cross the gully, were the tracks of the five riders.  The horses wore shoes, indicating that the men were probably not hostile Indians, but that was of little comfort to Heyes.  He knew now that Miss Wellington was being deliberately followed by a determined group of men.  It didn’t look good.  He remounted and pushed on, increasing their pace so as to come up with the riders ahead as soon as they could, if possible before the last of the twilight faded and they were left to play at hide-and-go-seek in the dark with men who might be bandits.

       Across the prairie to the southeast, a distant clump of vegetation was visible, probably the trees surrounding Carrizo Springs.  Much closer, they could see a rock outcropping lit by the last rays of the setting sun, with a grove of cottonwoods to one side of it, indicating the presence of a stream or some other source of water.  _Please,_ thought Heyes, addressing no one in particular, _let her be sensible enough to hole up in those rocks.  Then we can come up on the attackers from behind._

       Aloud, Kid echoed his thoughts.  “Maybe she’ll take refuge somewhere in that nest of rocks, if she’s aware she’s being followed.”  He saw his partner’s tense, worried expression.  “You know, Heyes, she’s pretty smart, and she has two pistols and a rifle and knows how to use them.”

       “Yeah, I know….”  Heyes wasn’t reassured, but he said nothing further, instead bending over his horse’s neck and urging the red dun gelding into a gallop.

       “Heyes, don’t go charging into this before we find out what’s going on!”  He might as well not have spoken.  His partner was already several yards ahead.

      

       Reining in out of rifle range of the outcropping, Heyes sat still in the saddle for a few moments, surveying the situation.  Kid reined his horse to the northeast side of the road, closer to the cottonwoods.  Both scanned the rocks and trees, alert for any sign of movement.  No horses or men were immediately visible, and there was no sign of Miss Wellington’s buggy.  Everything seemed quiet.

       Across the 120 yards separating them from the rocks, clear in the still evening air, the two outlaws heard the crack of a rifle, followed after a couple of seconds by another.  Then silence closed in again.

       Taking counsel of one another by an exchange of glances, Heyes and Curry moved to the right, toward the south face of the outcropping, looking for a place to leave their horses.  Then they would try to find a reasonably safe route to approach the nest of rocks, without exposing themselves either to Miss Wellington’s rifle fire or to possible return fire from the five men, who seemed to have taken cover in the grove of cottonwoods.

      

       In the fading light, Heyes worked his way around the rocks on the eastern side, while Kid tried the western edge.  Ahead, he heard a man’s voice shout something in Spanish.  He didn’t recognize any of the words except “ _Señora_.”  Almost immediately, Miss Wellington called back a reply, also in Spanish.  After a slight pause, he heard the heavy boom of her rifle, followed immediately by a cry of pain, proclaiming that someone had been hit.

       The exchange of words, and the shot, gave him a tolerably exact idea of where the lady had positioned herself.  As he got closer, he saw that she was crouched in a hollow behind several large boulders, with her back against the main rock face.  She had a box of cartridges beside her, and her Colt .44 lay on a rock near her left hand.  In order for any of the attackers to get close to her, they would have to advance straight into the field of fire from her rifle.  Heyes realized that in order for _him_ to approach her, he would have to climb over the boulder to her right, which would probably get him shot, either by her or by one of the men out in the grove.  He got as close as he could without drawing anyone’s fire, and then called out to her in a low voice.

       “Paula!  On your right!  I’m coming in—cover me.”

       She swung the rifle barrel toward him at the first sound, then relaxed, an incredulous smile crossing her face.  “Come on.”  As Heyes scrambled over the rock and dropped quickly down into the hollow beside her, drawing his gun, she squeezed off two shots toward the trees, forcing the attackers to keep their heads down.

       “Are you all right?” he asked, just above a whisper.

       “I’m quite all right—and very glad indeed to see you,” she replied.  “Kid’s over on the other side, I take it.”

       Seeing a flurry of movement under the trees, Heyes fired quickly.  The movement ceased, but there was no sound.  “You got it,” he returned.  “He’ll need cover to get closer.”

       Off to their left, they glimpsed a man moving, raising his revolver.  Before either of them could react, they heard the report of a .45, and the assailant cried out, dropping the weapon and drawing back into the shadow of the trees.

       Heyes called, “Kid, we’ll cover you while you come over those rocks.”  Both he and Miss Wellington fired scattered shots across the front of their position, allowing Curry to climb over the sheltering boulders and take up a position on Miss Wellington’s left. 

       Between them, they could now cover a field of fire of more than one hundred and eighty degrees.  The attackers had next to no chance of reaching them undamaged.  Paula called out to them in Spanish, presumably, thought Heyes, informing them of this fact, though he only caught the first word, _muchachos_.

       She confirmed his guess a moment later.  “I told them that I had reinforcements now, and if they considered what they were after to be worth their lives, they were at liberty to continue the attack.  Otherwise, the best course of action would be to leave.”

       “What _are_ they after?” asked Kid.  “Captain Parmalee told us this job of yours wasn’t supposed to be dangerous.”

       “It wasn’t.  It’s a long story—tell you later,” replied Paula.

       Heyes tensed suddenly, levelling his revolver across the top of the rock to the right as he saw a quick movement under the trees.  “I think they’re gonna rush us,” he warned.

       “Stupid,” muttered Kid, aiming his own gun off to the left. 

       Miss Wellington laid down the rifle and picked up her Colt to cover the centre.  The revolver was faster for getting off multiple shots at close range, where accuracy was not quite so important.  Still, she aimed carefully.  She did not want to kill anyone if it could be avoided.  She knew she had already hit one of the men, though—perhaps shooting to wound was not having the desired effect.

       Four men raced toward them from the shadows under the trees, firing as they came.  Heyes and Miss Wellington got off two shots apiece.  Fanning his Colt, a procedure that was capable of being done with more accuracy than most men realized, if the shooter had practiced it sufficiently, Kid got off four.

        Two of the men went down and a third staggered back.  He and the remaining man broke off their attack to succour their comrades, pulling them back into the shadows. 

       Holding their fire, the defenders waited.  Several minutes of silence was succeeded by a sudden pounding of horses’ hooves.  Listening, they could hear nothing further.

       Kid lowered his gun.  “I think they’ve pulled out.  I’m gonna go take a look.”

       “It’s pretty dark, Kid,” said Heyes.  “How much are you going to be able to see?”

       “Enough.  I know about where they had their horses tied.”  Kid slithered over the barricade of rocks in front of them and slipped quickly into the cottonwoods.

       Unable to see well enough to be of much assistance to him, Heyes and Miss Wellington kept their heads down behind the rocks.  A few minutes later, Kid called to them from the shadows.  “Hold your fire—I’m coming back.”  He joined them again almost immediately, holstering his gun.  “All five horses are gone.  There’s nobody here—except one fellow who didn’t make it.  You and I’ll have to bury him, Heyes.  And then I think we’d better make camp here tonight.  We’ve got water and shelter, and enough food to manage.  It’s as good a place as any.”

       Heyes nodded soberly, then, remembering the original purpose of the trip, turned quickly to Paula.  “I thought I’d lost you!”

       She stretched out her hand to him, not quite understanding.  “No, I’m all right.  I’m delighted to see you, Heyes, but I wrote you that I’d be back in Laredo soon enough.  Why did you come all this way?”

       Oblivious now to his partner, a silent but interested spectator, he replied quietly, “Because I love you.”  Not seeing the look of astonished joy on her face, thinking only of his own need to prove his love to her, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms and kissed her—a long, gentle kiss.  For a moment, her body felt tense, but she suddenly relaxed in his embrace, returning his kiss as well as she could.

       Shaking his head, Kid turned away to begin gathering wood for a fire.  Someday, maybe, his partner would learn to behave with a little more consideration for the lady he loved.  It was clearly too late to tell him anything of the kind now—and apparently Miss Wellington knew what she was getting into.  He hoped it would work out all right.  This was a side of Heyes he had not seen since they were children—the willingness to trust another person with his emotions.  He was not really sure what to expect.

      

       Heyes released Paula, belatedly realizing that after what they had just gone through, she might be tired, hungry, or even distraught, and might not want to spend a lot of time being kissed just now.  There was no reason, after all, why she would have been thinking of him for the last hundred miles or so, as he had been thinking of her.  But she made no move to step away from him, instead leaning against his shoulder with a little contented sigh.

       He looked down at the top of her head, bare now that her hat was hanging down her back by the stampede strings.   _Might as well say it now, before any more misunderstandings crop up_.  “Paula?” 

       She looked up; seeing the serious, anxious expression in his brown eyes, she straightened up and stepped back.  “What is it?  What’s bothering you?”  She wanted to add an endearment such as she had used in the letter, but wasn’t quite sure whether to risk it.  Better to let him speak.

       Taking a deep breath, he went ahead with what he had planned.  “Will you marry me?”

       A few feet away, Kid Curry put down the firewood he had gathered and stood still, watching.

       Paula stared at her sweetheart for a moment, overcome with astonishment.  She had not been certain until this moment that Hannibal Heyes would ever say anything of the kind.  Then, realizing he was anxiously awaiting her reply, she pulled herself together.  “Yes!  Oh, yes, I will!”

       “You’re sure?”

       “I’m sure, Heyes.”  She hesitated, thinking of using his given name, and then decided against it.  As far as she knew, no one ever called him by it.  She gazed steadily into his face so that he could read her expression, seeing all of the features she had come to know and love, from the high cheekbones and the dimple on the left side of his mouth to the dark brown eyes, sometimes the color of freshly brewed tea, much darker when he was in the grip of strong emotion, and the long dark brown hair curling over his collar.

       Discovering that he had been holding his breath, Heyes let it go in a long sigh.  “Let’s get out from behind these rocks so we can sit down somewhere.”

       Paula chuckled softly.  “I can’t sit down too long—I’ve got to start cooking our supper.  And that means, I take it, that you’ll be doing the washing-up, since Kid is taking care of the fire?”

       “Yes, of course,” said Heyes vaguely.  He was trying to phrase what he had to say next, and was, at the moment, entirely uninterested in supper.  Taking her hand, he helped her to scramble over the lowest of the rocks in front of them, then followed suit, bringing her rifle with him.  He led the way to a fallen log near where Kid had begun to build the fire; instead of sitting down, he turned back to face her.  “Don’t take this wrong,” he began, speaking rapidly.  “I can’t—we can’t—get married right away.”

       She nodded.  “You want to get your amnesty first.”

       _Ah, she_ does _understand_ , he thought.  Aloud, he continued, “Yeah, or if it falls through, we need to get straight with the law some other way.  I don’t think it’s right to ask you to marry me—really, even to get properly engaged—while I’m still wanted by the law.  I can’t ask you to tie yourself up to me under those circumstances.”  Seeing her lips part to say something, he put up his hand to stop her.  “No, hear me out.  Kid and I were talkin’, on the way here, and he told me about a custom that’s common in the South—you know he used to live in Arkansas?”

       At her nod, he glanced quickly at Kid, who stopped what he was doing and stepped closer in case Heyes needed him to explain.

       “He says there’s something called ‘getting promised.’  It’s usually for couples who can’t get properly betrothed yet—they’re too young, or they haven’t got her father’s permission, or …”

       “Or there’s a war going on, and he thinks he might not return,” supplied Paula.  “I’ve actually heard of that custom, though I don’t know too much about it.”

       “Well, we could do that.  I’ll get you a ring as soon as I can.  From what Kid said—” he glanced at his partner again “—it’s not as formal.  That is, if you wanted to get out of it, you could, without …”

       Kid spoke up.  “Without somebody blaming you …”

       “Without courting social disgrace,” finished Paula.  “Yes, I understand, though I don’t think those considerations apply to us.”  Taking pity on Heyes, she tried to finish the explanation for him.  “You’ll give me a promise ring in token of your intention to formally ask me to become engaged to you at a later time, when you are able to do so.  And I will accept it, and wear it, to signify my promise that I shall not permit anyone else to make advances to me, and that when you ask me I shall be ready.  Will that suit?”

       “Yes, that’s it,” he replied eagerly.  “Kid, you’re a witness to my promise.”

       “And mine,” said Paula.

       “I’ll witness it,” agreed Kid.  “And I’ll tell you something else I’ll do—chaperon you both, whatever it takes to do that right.”

       “My brother will appreciate that, I expect,” murmured Paula.  “It’s very thoughtful of you, Kid.”

       Suddenly Heyes realized he still had to explain all this to Wellington when they saw him—and in spite of the young man’s previous consent, Heyes still doubted whether he would approve when he heard that Heyes had actually proposed marriage to his sister and had been accepted.  _Well, I’ll worry about that later_.

      

       Curry went back to the fire, laying it carefully so that the wood could be made to support a pan, holding it over the hot coals in the centre, where the flames were already licking at the tinder he had put there.  He slipped a flat rock into the structure at one end to serve as a rest for the coffee pot.

       Somewhat overcome by the strain of recent events, Paula sank to a seat on the log.  She suddenly felt rather tired and lightheaded, though whether the latter sensation was due to love or to not having eaten since mid-morning, she was not sure.

       Now that he had cleared the major hurdles, Heyes found that he had quite a number of other things he wanted to say; not quite as important, but….  Somehow it didn’t matter that his cousin was within earshot.  He supposed he’d better get used to that, if Kid meant what he said about being a chaperon.  He sat down on the log beside Paula and turned to face her.  “There’s something else that would mean a lot more to me, right now, than your promise to wear that ring.”

       Paula smiled at him; for a moment he almost forgot what he wanted to say.  _We can’t have this_ , he thought.  _I’d like to put_ her _off balance for once.  Somehow I don’t remember thinking anything sensible for the past hour or so._   “I want to ask you—” he hesitated, then smiled confidently, “—to give me your heart, not just your promise.”

       Her smile faded, leaving her face looking extraordinarily grave.  “I can’t do that.”

       “ _What?_ ”  This was so unexpected that he didn’t know how to go on.

       “My heart was stolen, quite some time ago now, by a clever train robber.  He was an experienced thief, or perhaps he wouldn’t have got away with it.”  She paused. 

       Heyes was speechless.  He felt like someone had unexpectedly hit him in the wind. 

       Paula went on.  “So you see, I can’t give it to you.  You … you have it already.  You’ve had it for a very long time.”  There were tears in her eyes.  As he watched, they spilled over.  She tapped his chest with one finger.  “Perhaps if you look in your vest pocket, or …”  Her voice failed.

       He tried to think of something useful to say in response.  “Well, since I’m going straight now, I need to think about making restitution for at least some of the things I stole.  But I can’t do that for a stolen heart.  All I can do is give you mine in exchange.  Right now, it’s about the only thing I have to offer you.”

       A few feet away, Kid Curry whistled silently to himself.  It wasn’t clear who had come off with the honors in that conversation.  When he glanced back at the couple, he saw that this kiss was taking a lot longer than the first one; in fact, his cousin seemed to be putting a great deal of energy into it.  _Too much_ , he thought.  _She’s not used to anything like that_.  He spoke up.  “I’d better go get the horses and start unloading the supplies, or we won’t have anything to cook.”  Not waiting to see if his interruption had been successful in getting Heyes’s attention, he walked away to where they had left their horses.

       When he came back, leading the claybank dun and his own dark bay, Heyes still had his arms around Paula, who was leaning against his chest with her eyes closed.  _She looks as if she’s asleep._ _Or maybe she’s fainted_.  Over her head, he said softly to Heyes, “Sorry to break things up like that, but I don’t think she can take much more.  You’re gonna have to be careful.”

       Heyes nodded.  “Sweetheart?” he said, putting his hand under Paula’s chin.  “Are you all right?  Kid’s here with the saddlebags.  He needs to know where to find your horses.”

       She stirred and lifted her head.  “Oh, yes.  I don’t know what came over me.  I felt a trifle dizzy—perhaps it’s because I haven’t eaten in about eight hours.”  She smiled cheerfully at Heyes.

       _That’s as good an excuse as any_.  _Kid’s right.  I’ll have to be more careful_.

       “They’re tethered around the east side of the rock face, with the buggy,” Paula said, looking a little less confused.  “Heyes, could you help me up?  I’ve got flour and baking soda, some fresh eggs, cold meat, and tea.”

       “And we’ve got bacon, beans, canned tomatoes, canned peaches, and coffee,” supplied Kid, while his partner steadied the lady with a hand under her elbow as she rose.  “That ought to be more than enough for the three of us.”  He handed Heyes the reins of the two geldings and went to retrieve Paula’s horses and buggy.

      

       Later in the evening, while Heyes was washing up the pans and dishes, Kid said, “You know, Paula, I think you’d better tell us what those bandits were after.  The captain told us you were carrying documents, which wouldn’t interest them, surely?  And it didn’t seem like they were trying to get their hands on you—attacking you personally, I mean.”

       ”No, they wanted what I’m carrying.  Captain Parmalee didn’t know.  I’m afraid I exceeded my instructions,” she replied.  Answering Kid’s matter-of-fact questions steadied her, making her feel more in command of herself for the first time after the fantastic events of the day.  “I delivered the documents to the _alcalde_ in Allende, as I was told to do.  I can’t explain more about that—it’s a rather delicate political matter.”

       Heyes set aside the pans to dry.  “And?”

       “I stepped into the parish church— _Villa de San Juan de Mata_ — to pray for a few minutes before leaving the town,  and the priest came up to speak with me. 

Iglesia San Juan de Mata, Allende, Coahuila

       "It’s a very beautiful historic church, founded in the year 1700, and he wanted to show me about and tell me some of its history.  He knew that the _alcalde_ had been dealing with authorities in the United States, and was aware that I had come from Texas and was returning here.  He became very thoughtful and asked if I would be willing to do them a favour.  Naturally, I said if there was anything I could do, I should be only too happy.”  She drank the last of her tea.  “He told me that a particular gang of bandits had been robbing churches in that area—stealing money or anything else they could get their hands on, but mostly the gold items that had been donated at great sacrifice by the local people so that they could be used in worship:  chalices, candlesticks, things of that sort.  Some of the gold items had already been brought there for safekeeping from other churches, but he feared that he would be unable to keep them safe much longer.  He asked if I would take them to a place of relative safety somewhere in Texas, to be returned when something had been done about the bandits.  I said I would do so.”

       “Kind of sounds like that gang has scouts out, or something,” Kid suggested.  “Maybe they saw you go into the church, and when you headed for the border, they figured something like that was going on.”

       “That’s very possible.  In which case—I hate to say it, but I almost wish we had killed more than one of them.  Perhaps that would have solved the problem.  As it is, I shall have to think of somewhere to take the pieces so they will be safe.”

       “Where are they now?” asked Heyes.

       “In my saddlebags, among my personal things.  Go ahead and look.”  She watched as he picked up the saddlebags and began a cursory search.

       “I don’t see any gold.  I don’t feel anything in here that seems like it shouldn’t be here, either.”

       “Yes, that’s rather the point.  But if _you_ can’t find anything without a more thorough search, that means I packed them right,” said Paula.

       “Well, I won’t disarrange things.”  Heyes put the saddlebags back where they had been, close to Paula’s bedroll, under the edge of the tarp she was using as a tent.  “But I’ve got an idea where we can take them.”

***   ***   ***

       As the level beams of the rising sun filtered through the cottonwood branches, Paula stirred and lifted the edge of the tarp forming her little sleeping tent.  She would have to get up immediately, she reminded herself, and get breakfast started.  When she was travelling by herself, it didn’t matter quite so much, but this morning she had two hungry men to cook for.  She knew they were looking forward to hot biscuits and fresh coffee.

       Surprised, she saw Hannibal Heyes blowing up the fire, and laying the top and bottom of the Dutch oven on the coals to heat.  _Yes, he certainly is thinking of biscuits.  They’ll rise nicely in that_.  Paula scrambled, under the tent, to get her corset laced, her petticoats arranged, her hair pinned up, and her boots pulled on, before emerging, somewhat dishevelled, to begin making the dough.  “Heyes?  I’ll do that.”

       He looked up, with a smile that made her feel breathless.  “Oh, I’ll let you do the cooking.  Your biscuits are better than mine or Kid’s any day, and I know you make coffee better than I do, even if you don’t drink it.  I was just getting things ready.  It’s my turn with the fire this morning.”  He walked over and bent to give her a quick kiss on the lips.  “I love you.  Did you sleep well?”

       “Yes, I—”  She looked beyond him to see Kid Curry emerging from his bedroll.  “Good morning, Kid.”

       “Morning,” said Kid.  “Heyes, I thought you were gonna sleep in, like you usually do.”

       His cousin flushed.  “I couldn’t sleep.  Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

      

       While Kid was attending to the washing-up, Paula walked over to where Heyes was leaning his elbows on one of the rocks.  They watched the eastern sky as it turned from soft pink, to coral, to flaming orange, to a clear, pale winter blue, the sun blazing a deep orange through the dense air of the Rio Grande valley.  It was a sight they rarely saw in Colorado, where the higher altitude and thinner atmosphere tended to turn the sun gold at its rising and setting.

       “Darling,” she began.  “Now that we’re rested, and no one is shooting at us, and you’ve said what you came all these miles to say …”

       Heyes turned to face her.  “I meant every word.”

       “I know you did.  But I’m going to ask you—now that you’ve had time to think it over, are you sure you really want to do this?”

       “You mean, plan on marrying you?”

       “Yes.  Giving up your freedom, which I know is precious to you.”

       “My freedom!  Paula, sweetheart, it’s not like I’m going to prison.  Well, I could—some sheriff could still catch us and we could be tried and convicted and sent to prison—but that’s a risk I’ll have to take.  You know that.”

       “Yes, I know.  I didn’t mean that.  It’s just that—I love you so much, but if you would rather not be married, I don’t want you to feel like you have to ask, just because I let you kiss me … I’m willing to call it off, if that’s what you decide that you want.”  She couldn’t look at him.  Afraid he would see the tears in her eyes, she turned her head away and examined the lichen growing in the crevices of the granite.

       Realizing she was truly agitated and wanted an honest answer, Heyes remained silent for a moment.  Then, taking a deep breath, he said, “No.  I’m sure.  Now that I’ve found you—the woman I thought wasn’t real, couldn’t exist—I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  I don’t know how it’ll work out, or when, but I mean it.  And there’s nobody else—no other woman.  I’m not likely to miss spending time with saloon girls, if that’s what you meant by losing my freedom.”  He touched her face to get her to look at him.  “Do you believe me?”

       She turned to him, laying her hands on the front of his beaded vest, saying nothing, only lifting her face to be kissed.  That was not exactly what she had meant, but this was not the time to discuss it.

       Recollecting himself, and remembering what had happened the previous evening, Heyes drew her into his arms and kissed her very gently.  “Let’s not make this chaperon job any harder for Kid than it already is,” he joked, releasing her.  “I’m afraid something bad’s gonna happen to that hat of yours if you keep letting me see tears in your eyes.  So don’t cry, all right?  There’s no reason to.  Everything’s gonna be all right.”  _When I just reminded her, and me, too, that I could get arrested and sent to prison any day, or shot in the back by a bounty hunter.  Well, worrying about it’s not going to make things any better.  All we can do is go on_.

      

      


	9. The Problem of the Mexican Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes outlines his idea for the disposal of the gold items brought from Mexico, and discovers that others are not quite as convinced of his cleverness as he thought they would be.

**Carrizo Springs, Texas, Friday, January 28th**

As the small party drew up in front of the hotel, Heyes said, “Kid and I’ll take care of the buggy and the horses.  You go on in and register.”

       “I’d rather take care of Star myself, as usual,” she replied.  “I’ll take you up on unharnessing Angus here from the buggy, though.”  She didn’t say so, but it had occurred to her that if her brother had arrived already and was watching for her in the hotel lobby, it would create a better impression if she and Heyes were to arrive together.  _Well, not a better one, perhaps, but it will certainly give Paul the idea that we have something to tell him_.

       In the warm dimness of the livery stable, they cared for their horses and paid for them to be given extra baits of corn.  On the way out, Paula saw the rose-grey gelding that her brother rode, in one of the stalls, and realized that she had been right—he was here ahead of them.

       Heyes and Kid had their own saddlebags slung over their shoulders; in addition, Heyes carried Paula’s, with the precious cargo of gold, and both men carried extra bags containing most of the items Paula had stored in the buggy, leaving her free to take Heyes’s arm and walk into the lobby beside him.  As usual, she took a position on his left side, leaving him free to reach his gun unhindered if that should be necessary.

       At the sound of their footsteps on the polished wood floor, Paul Wellington glanced up from the book in his hands, sending a quick look toward the front doors.  When he saw who had arrived, he rose and came forward.

       “Paula!  Good to see you!  Did everything go all right?”

       “Not exactly.  There was some trouble, though I fear it was mostly my own fault.  Joshua and Thaddeus here arrived in time to be of assistance, however.”  She turned to the clerk at the front desk.  “I shall need a room for one night, and a bath, if you please, after I have dined.”  She bent to sign the register and accepted the key held out to her.

       Signing in and taking their own room key, Heyes and Curry picked up the bags again.

       “I’d be happy to take Paula’s things to her room,” offered Wellington. 

       “If you want to, sure, but we’ve got everything,” replied Heyes.

       There was a moment’s silence as Wellington digested this.  Then he smiled.  “In that case, allow me to suggest that we should all have supper together—say, in thirty minutes?  There is a private dining room for hotel guests, where dressing for dinner is not expected.  This is by way of being an up-and-coming little resort, because of the springs here,” he added.  “Supper is on me, gentlemen.  I can see we have important matters to discuss.”

***   ***   ***

       At the secluded table in the corner that had been set aside for them, Paula and the three men sat down and made their selections from the bill of fare recited to them by the waiter.  Wellington asked for a bottle of wine to be brought, and turned to his sister. 

       “I think the first matter is to ascertain how your assignment went, Paula.  Did you make the delivery successfully?”

       “It was successful as far as it went.  I delivered the documents to the _alcalde_ and got his signature on the one that was to be returned.  I’ll give it to you after dinner, to go with the others I presume you’re bringing from San Antonio.”

       “Yes, but that can wait.”  Something about that sounded rather odd, Paul thought, considering they were all returning to Laredo on the following day.  “Go on.”

       Paula related her visit to the church, and _Padre_ Esteban’s request to get the gold to safety.  She finished up with a brief description of the men she had seen following her, and her decision to take refuge in the rock formation and meet them with gunfire if necessary.

       “Just as things were becoming a trifle difficult,” she ended, “Heyes and Kid showed up and called to me that they were coming in to support me, one on each side.  Soon after that, the bandits thought better of it and departed—all except for one of their number, whom we buried last night.  We spent the night there and came into Carrizo Springs this afternoon.”

       Her brother rose to his feet and held out his hand, first to Heyes and then to Curry.  “Gentlemen, I’m greatly in your debt.  It’s God’s mercy you were there and able to help her.”

       “Don’t mention it,” murmured Kid.

       “That’s all right,” said Heyes, a little embarrassed at being accused of being an instrument of God’s mercy.  He recalled his hope that someone, or something, could get Paula to take shelter in the rocks, so they could catch up to her and be of assistance.  Maybe God had taken that for a prayer.  The thought was somehow disturbing, and he put it firmly out of his mind.

       Resuming his seat, Wellington said encouragingly.  “Now, Heyes, if you would, tell me just _how_ you and Kid ended up arriving in the nick of time.  When I left Laredo, the two of you were off in Dos Rios with Erik and Chad, seeing to that report of a bank robbery.”

       “It’s kind of a long story,” began Heyes.

       “I’d imagine so.  But we have time,” said Paul.  “One moment.”  He held up his hand to forestall further conversation as the waiter approached to offer a choice of baked goods and sweet puddings for dessert.  After they had made their selections, he turned back to the outlaw leader.  “Please go on, Heyes.  Or rather, begin at the beginning.”

       Heyes had been rapidly going over the story in his mind to see if what he had to say needed to be edited.  Wellington was right—the whole story had better be told, sooner rather than later.  He could even see how some of what had happened could be made to work for him, in his intention to present himself to his prospective brother-in-law in the best possible light.  Best to take him by surprise and not give him a chance to object.

       “When we got back, I found that Paula had left a letter for me, saying that she had gone out of town on Ranger business, and promising to be back by the end of the month at the latest.  But it was obvious there were a couple of misunderstandings that I needed to clear up, so we went to see Captain Parmalee, to find out where she’d gone.  I didn’t want to go another week without seeing her to straighten things out.”

       He stopped to take another bite of the luscious pecan cream the waiter had brought, washed down by a swallow of the really good coffee.  “Parmalee was kinda cagey, didn’t want to tell us at first.  So I showed him Paula’s letter—” he smiled at her look of surprise “—so he could see that she wouldn’t mind if he told us more.  When he asked if whatever I had to say couldn’t wait, I said there’d been too much waiting already—that I planned to ask her to marry me.”  Heyes paused, looking Wellington in the eye, but the Englishman made no comment.  “Then he went ahead and told us where she was expected to cross the border.  He asked us to promise not to go into Mexico after her unless she was overdue.  Where she’d crossed the river into Texas, we saw tracks of what looked like five riders following her.  Later on, we were sure of it, so we pushed on as fast as we could in case she needed help.  After the shooting stopped and four of the men pulled out, I asked Paula to marry me and she said she would.”  He finished the last sentence rather quickly and followed it up by an ingenuous smile.

       “Congratulations to both of you,” said Wellington, with as much aplomb as he could muster, rising again and giving his hand to his sister and her intended.  Clearly, there was a great deal more to the story. 

       “Thanks,” replied Heyes, as the men resumed their seats.  “That’s not all, though.  I still think it’s not right for me to ask a woman to tie herself up to me in marriage, or even a formal engagement, while I’m wanted by the law.  It could put her in a terrible position—anyway, I want her to be able to get out of the arrangement if she has to.  Kid told me about something they do in Arkansas—all across the South, I guess—for couples who can’t get engaged yet for some reason.  I’ll give her a promise ring, and promise to ask her again when I’m able to …”

       “And I,” interrupted Paula, “will wear the ring and consider myself spoken for until he’s ready to ask.”

       “That seems to be an excellent idea,” agreed Wellington.  “No thoughts of waiting to ask my consent?”

       “Well, no,” Heyes replied cheerfully.  “You gave it once—at least, that’s what you said to me ten days ago—so this part is up to me.”  He smiled and met Paula’s eyes, causing them both to blush.  “I’ll get a ring for her as soon as I can.  Meanwhile, we need to talk about what we’re going to do with this gold.  She told me there’s over five thousand dollars’ worth of it in her saddlebags.  And that’s not counting its value to the church.”

       “We could take it to Laredo when we go back down there tomorrow,” mused Paul.  “The priest at San Agustín would take charge of it, I’m certain.”

       “Probably he would, but I had a better idea.”  Heyes exchanged a glance with his cousin and another with his lady, both of whom already knew what he was going to say. 

***   ***   ***

       He remembered Paula’s surprise, and his partner’s ill-concealed amusement, when he had suggested that he would find some suitable way to dispose of the gold. 

       _“Heyes, you don’t need to do that.  It’s my responsibility.”_

 _“Well, yeah, but you’re mine now, and that makes it_ my _responsibility.  All right, Kid.  That’s enough.”_

_“I didn’t say a word!”_

  Heyes had outlined his plan, and then, since it involved several hundred miles’ travel for Paula, Kid, and himself, he had seen another problem looming.

       _“Paula?  Do you trust me?  Trust us, I mean?  I know you must trust me somehow, or you wouldn’t have agreed to marry me, but this is different.  We’re not married yet, and there’ll be just the three of us on the road.”_

_“I trust you.  I trust your word, for a start.  And I’ll have to learn to trust your judgement eventually—we might as well start now.”_

_“My judgment?”_

_“Yes, when you start giving me orders.  It’s not like the understanding you and Kid have, is it?  I’ve noticed you two don’t even have to discuss things.  You usually seem to know what the other is thinking without having to ask.  So if something comes up, some kind of emergency, you don’t have to worry if Kid disagrees with you—you just go ahead with whatever you’ve planned.  I presume if Kid has objections, he brings them up later, in private.”_

_“You know, she has a point, Heyes.  Remember that time we broke into Chester Powers’s house to find out what the … what was going on, and he handed us twenty thousand dollars and told us to go to South America?  I was pretty upset about that, Paula—you can guess why.  Lillian O’More and I aren’t very far along … we don’t have that much of an understandin’, but we do have one.  No way I’d want to abandon the amnesty idea and go to South America.  So I was arguing with this crooked banker, tryin’ to make him see that, and all of a sudden Heyes interrupted me, started smoothin’ things over with Powers, tellin’ him we’d take the money.  I stopped talking, ’cause I could see Heyes had an idea, but of course we couldn’t talk about it right then.  Later on I asked him about it, and he said he was working out a way to set Powers up, get out of the frame-up he got us into.”_

_“Yeah, and that’s the way it usually works.  Kid will wait and argue with me later, or at least ask for explanations later.”_

_“That’s precisely what I was getting at.  We’ll have to work out something similar, if you plan to take charge of the trip.  You need to know that I shan’t disagree with you in public, or delay you, or endanger your plans.  And by the way, Kid, I’d like to hear the rest of that story sometime.  So I …”_

_“Wait a minute.  We were talking about trust.”_

_“Yes, dear, we were.  Gentlemen, I’ll offer a suggestion.  If you will undertake to get me home to the ranch in Estes Park, still a maid, and without having attempted to alter that … that condition, I shall promise to do what you say, Heyes.  I expect that you’ll take my opinion into account whenever you can.”_

After Heyes had managed to recover his usual ease of manner, he had given the required promise, which Kid had seconded, with a renewed statement of his determination to act as the couple’s chaperon.

***   ***   ***

       Heyes poured himself some more coffee, and debated asking the waiter if there was any more of the pecan cream left.  It was very sweet, but just the thing to go with coffee and a nice after-supper conversation with one’s lady and one’s brother-in-law to be.

       Satisfied that Wellington was simply waiting for him to explain, Heyes began, “We have this friend—well, I guess you’d call him a business acquaintance---a rich rancher named Patrick J. McCreedy, owns a big spread near Red Rock, over by El Paso.”

       “Yes, I recall your mentioning him on the way down here, and telling us about the way he tried to cheat you at cards.  You’re still in communication with him?”

       Heyes nodded.  “We’ve done a couple of other jobs for him since that time—not anything illegal—and he actually paid us for the work.  We’ve got kind of a strange relationship with him.  We found out, after our first visit, that he had discovered who we were, and that we were wanted, but he’s not interested in doing anything about it.  For one thing, he doesn’t need the money, and for another, I think he kind of enjoys working with us—maybe it’s the mental stimulation, or something.  And on the last job, we managed to get him together with Carlota Armendáriz, who’s now his wife.  She’s the sister of a rich Mexican rancher who shares a border with McCreedy’s ranch on the west side.  Anyway, McCreedy would really rather his wife never found out exactly how we arranged some of the … well, the details of the courtship, I guess you could say.  So we don’t have any worries he’s likely to turn us in.” 

       “When the local sheriff told him he thought we were Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, McCreedy told the sheriff I was his nephew, to protect us,” added Kid.  “I guess now we sorta have an adopted uncle.”

       “The point,” continued Heyes, “is that McCreedy and his wife are both Catholics, and Carlota McCreedy is very devout—goes to all sorts of special services like saints’ days and things like that.  They go to church in Socorro, Texas, which used to be in Mexico—the whole town, before the river changed course; I gather they’ve been doing that regularly since the wedding.”

       “I see,” said Wellington.  “You want to take the church gold to Mrs. McCreedy and ask her to take charge of it?  I’ll admit that sounds as if it would work well.  We just hand it over to you and Kid and you’ll take it to El Paso, is that it?” 

       “Not quite,” Heyes temporized.  Paula’s normally even-tempered brother seemed to be a little out of sorts this evening.  _I suppose that’s to be expected,_ he thought, _considering we surprised him with this engagement news_.  “We’ll take Paula with us, _and_ the gold, and _she’ll_ talk to Mrs. McCreedy about taking charge of it.”  He smiled innocently.  “It’d come better from her, after all.  And that’s not all.  _Señor_ Armendáriz is kind of the local law in that part of Mexico.  He has two hundred men working for him, almost like a private army, and he keeps the peace all around his _rancho_.  I thought, if Paula can get his sister to understand the situation in Allende, he might well take his men down there and do something about those bandits.  There are always bandits, but this gang that’s robbing churches—Armendáriz would probably think they needed to be stopped, and he’s got the men and the money to do it.  Kid and I don’t, and of course the Rangers can’t go into Mexico on an internal matter like that—at least, they’re not supposed to.”

       Paul Wellington gazed at the outlaw leader in some perturbation.  He seemed so confident, so certain that everyone would fall in with his brilliant schemes.  _Well, they_ are _brilliant.  In fact,_ he’s _brilliant.  Paula has chosen well, after all.  But things are moving much faster than they ought_.  Aloud, he asked, “And after you’ve talked to Mrs. McCreedy?”

       “Well, the first thing I gotta do is go into El Paso and find a promise ring for Paula,” said Heyes.  “McCreedy might go with me, or he could recommend a jeweller.”

       “If you’re going into El Paso, I’ll stay behind at the ranch with Paula and Mrs. McCreedy,” said Kid.  “It’s just possible the marshal there might remember me, from when Grace Turner turned me in for the reward.”

       Heyes frowned.  “That’s true.  You’ll stay at the ranch, then.”  He turned back to Paul.  “After that, I figured there was no sense in riding hundreds of miles south to Laredo and then back up north when you two are ready to leave Texas in the spring.  Kid and I could just escort Paula home to the C Bar W in Estes Park, and save all that riding.  We’d ride as far as Albuquerque and then take the train.  We’ll make arrangements to ship the horses.  We’d probably stay at your ranch for a few days to rest up from the trip before we’d have to leave to look for work.”

       Seeing that her brother was frowning, Paula opened her mouth to tell him about the promise she had extracted from the outlaws with regard to her safety.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Heyes give just the tiniest shake of his head.  She bent her head over the bowl of fruit which had sufficed her for dessert, and said nothing.

       Kid spoke up.  “I’d chaperon them all the way.  I’ve already been doin’ that.”

       “It sounds as if you have thought out everything very carefully,” said Paul.  He looked quizzically at his sister.  “ _Wilt thou go with this man?_ ”

       She caught her breath suddenly, and smiled, knowing he wasn’t just referring to the trip to Colorado.  In context, the verse he had quoted referred to a marriage arrangement.  She replied by quoting the next line.  “ _I will go_.”[1]

       Heyes looked from one to the other.  “What?”

       “It’s a quotation from the Book of Genesis in the Bible,” Paul explained.  “Paula can show you later, if you’re interested.”  He had not missed the little byplay between her and Heyes.  _She’s already looking to him for guidance, rather than to me.  Lord, You did promise to work all things together for good._ _ **[2]**_ _I think we need some of that now_.  “May I escort you up to your bedchamber, and get those documents for Laredo?” he said to his sister.  “That is, if you’ve finished eating?”

       She looked at Heyes.  “Are the two of you planning to find a poker game?”

       “We were thinking of that.  It’s Friday night, there ought to be something going on.”  He pressed her hands, and conscious of her brother’s and his partner’s watchful eyes, kissed her decorously on the cheek.  “Don’t forget I love you.” 

       As he had intended, this made her blush.  “Good night, darling,” she responded softly.

       Offering his arm to her, Paul turned to the two outlaws.  “Shall we meet in the morning for breakfast, say, at seven?  After we eat, I’ll come and help you pack up, and figure out what to do with that buggy.  You’re taking Angus with you as pack horse, I presume?”—this to his sister, who nodded. 

       “Seven in the morning it is,” replied Heyes.  “Unless you’d like to join us for poker over in the saloon.”

       Wellington shook his head.  “I know the rank of the hands, but that’s about all.  I fear I should be a liability in the game.”

       “Come and watch, then.  Kid and I are both pretty good at it.  You might learn something,” suggested Heyes.  “That is, if you want to.”

       “Very well.  I shall join you later, perhaps in about half an hour.” 

       Heyes had thought of something else.  “Paula, if we come to your door later, will you still be up?  I’d like to make sure that gold is put away safely where I can keep an eye on it.”

       She nodded.  “If you come at ten this evening, I shall have it unpacked for you, ready to be stowed where you choose.”

       “We’ll be there, as close to ten as we can,” Heyes promised.  He and Kid turned to walk across the street to the saloon.

       Paula and her brother retrieved their room keys from the front desk.  “When would you like the bath, miss?” asked the clerk.  “There’s a bathroom at the end of the hallway, with a locking door."

       “Thank you.  In about forty-five minutes, perhaps.”

       “Yes, miss.  We’ll bring the key to your room when the hot water has been carried up.”

      

       Paul unlocked the door of her room for her, followed her in, and shut the door behind him.  “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said quietly.  “I’m very glad they came along—I really am.  And I know we talked about this, and I told you I’d spoken to Heyes and assured him that he had my approval, but … Paula, I’m not quite sure how to put this, but have you lost your mind?”  The tight hold he had been keeping on his emotions slipped, now that he was alone with his twin and able to speak freely for the first time since they had seen one another that afternoon.

       She sank down onto the bed, much more tired than she wanted to admit, and waved him to a chair.  “No, I don’t think so.  Only my heart.  I told you that, a long time ago, and now … now it’s come true.”  As her brother said nothing, she added, “You wanted him to propose marriage, didn’t you?  Well, now he has.  And I think this promise arrangement is ideal, considering he’s still wanted by the law.”

       “All right.  Forgive me.  I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”  Paul smiled at her and was heartened to receive a smile in return.  “The promise arrangement _is_ ideal—especially because of the reason he gave for wanting to do it that way; that is, so you can get out of the betrothal if you wish.  Of course, that leaves one wondering if _he_ will use the informality of the arrangement as an excuse to break it.”

       “Yes, I thought of that, but actually, I don’t think he will.  Now that he’s made up his mind, he seems fairly certain of what he wants to do.”

       “I noticed that,” her brother responded rather wryly.  “He’s made all these plans, and just seems to take for granted that everyone will go along with them.”

       Paula blushed.  “As a matter of fact, I … I rather like that.  As I must learn to trust his judgement someday, I thought that the sooner I make a beginning, the better.”

       “You’re referring to his wanting to take you on a journey of over thirteen hundred miles, eight hundred of which will be on horseback, far from major cities and towns.”  She nodded.  “Someone will have to be in charge on that trip, certainly, and I suppose you’ve had to agree that it will be he.”

       “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, precisely, but I did agree, yes; in fact, I suggested it.”

       “You’re willing to go with him, then.  I know, I asked that already.”  He sighed, a crease between his brows.

       “And I already answered it, just as Rebekah did.  I have the advantage of being acquainted with the man I am to wed, too, which she did not.  Oh, Paul, will you stop worrying?  You know I love him, and I think you can see he loves me.  As far as I can see, this is an answer to your prayers _and_ mine, not to mention Ellen’s, and our mother’s.”

       Paul rose and picked up his hat.  “Very well.  I truly am happy for you, my dear.”  He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick, brotherly hug, keeping his inevitable objections to himself.  “Good night.  I’ll see you at breakfast.”

       Retiring to his own bedchamber, Wellington thought briefly, then busied himself writing a letter, which he folded and placed in an unsealed envelope on the bedside table.  Checking his watch, he made his way down the stairs and across the street to the saloon.

      

       Shortly before ten in the evening, Heyes asked to be dealt out of the game, nodded to his partner and to Wellington, who had been standing behind them, watching their play, and went back to the hotel, Curry following as soon as he had collected his winnings.  Retrieving their room key from the night clerk, the two outlaws went up to Paula’s room on the second floor, stopping at their own room to pick up their saddlebags and some items of clothing to use in wrapping up the gold.

       She opened the door at Heyes’s knock, and stepped back with a smile to allow both men to enter.  “Come in.  I’ve disentangled the things from my under-garments, so you can see what needs to be done in the way of packing.”

       Curry whistled softly at seeing three chalices, six of what appeared to be some sort of plates with long handles, and three shallow bowls with covers, glimmering in the lamplight with the dull, unmistakable sheen of solid gold.  “They use those things for Holy Communion, don’t they?  For the Lord’s Supper?  What are they using instead, if they’ve sent these away with you?”

       “ _Padre_ Esteban told me they would use earthenware utensils.  It’s not the best thing in the world, but far better than allowing these precious items to be stolen.”

       Heyes and Kid carefully wrapped each item in clothing and stowed the collection away in three saddlebags.  “We’ll keep these with us, all right?” asked Heyes.

       “I think they’d be safer with you.”  Paula nodded.  “But I can keep one of the saddlebags here, if you like.”

       “No, I want you to get a good night’s sleep, and not worry over them,” replied Heyes.  “We’ll take good care of everything, I promise.”

       “I know you will.  Good night, darling.”  She turned her face up for his kiss.

***   ***   ***

       After breakfast, the three men packed up all the luggage that Heyes’s party would be taking with them when they started for El Paso, carrying it down the street to the livery stable, where they saddled the horses and loaded the extra accoutrements onto the pack horse. 

       Wellington had the letter he had written to Ellen Ramsay tucked into his inside vest pocket, ready to give to Heyes.  He hesitated, with a persistent sense of unease about the situation pervading his mind.  It was all very well for his sister to say that she loved Heyes and therefore, presumably, trusted him with the conduct of this long journey.  He had long ago decided that the two outlaws could be trusted with money, and with security arrangements on the road—they had proved themselves over and over on the way down to Laredo in the autumn—but as to whether they could be trusted with Paula’s virtue and her reputation, well, that was another matter. 

       One part of his mind was aware that it was rather ludicrous to be worrying about such a thing after the couple had already exchanged promises to wed—if she couldn’t trust her intended, she wouldn’t have accepted his offer of marriage.  And if he had seriously thought Heyes couldn’t be trusted, he wouldn’t have given his approval to the match when he had been asked, over a week ago.  But on the other hand …  Drawing a deep breath, he made up his mind to air his concerns, at whatever cost to their developing friendship, right here, before they left the semi-privacy of the stable and rejoined Paula, waiting in the hotel lobby.

       “Ah, Heyes, Kid, a word with you both.”

       Turning to acquiesce to this request, Heyes’s ready smile faded as he took in the expression on Wellington’s face.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?”

       “I’m hesitant to say this,” Wellington began.  “But I can’t pretend to be entirely at ease with the idea of your taking my sister thirteen hundred miles away, when for much of the journey she’ll be alone with just the two of you.”

       Exchanging a quick glance with his partner, Heyes turned to face him again, his jaw set and his eyes hard.  “You’d better say exactly what you’re getting at.”

       “I’ve noticed already that Paula seems to set her own judgement aside in favor of yours.  That might put her at some risk, if you tried to talk her into something to which she wouldn’t normally agree.  She has very high moral standards, but it’s quite possible, I suppose, that she would allow her love for you to overbear her good sense.”

       “I doubt it,” said Heyes, “even if I tried to … to talk her into anything, like you said.  But go on.  There’s more, isn’t there?”

       “Yes.  What if you did try to talk her into, well, not waiting for the wedding, since you love each other so much?  It would be easy just to go ahead, wouldn’t it?  And if she refused you, there’s your partner, ready and willing to help you get what you want.  After all, you’re cousins, who’ve been partners for many years.  I know you’d do almost anything for one another.”

       For just a moment, Heyes was so angry that he could think of nothing to say.  Then, dimly, he began to perceive what the situation might look like to an anxious brother, whose twin sister and he had never been apart.  With real heroism, he put his own offended dignity aside and concentrated on allaying Wellington’s fears.

       “I’ve never forced a woman in my life, and I’m not about to start now, especially with the woman I love,” he said bluntly.  “It would destroy any chance we had of being happy together, just for the sake of something I could get easily enough from some stranger, if I wanted to, as soon as we got to Denver or some other big town.  You don’t really think I’d do that—to her or to myself?”  Not waiting for an answer, he went on.

       “You heard Kid tell you, last night, that he intends to chaperon us?  Well, you can take that as a guarantee of your sister’s safety, ’cause he means it.”

       “I think we should tell him about Jake,” said Curry, his blue eyes smouldering.

       “Go ahead,” said Heyes.

       Taking a deep breath to calm himself from his sudden loss of temper, Kid began, quietly enough, “Well, Heyes here had some pretty strict rules about women, back when he was leadin’ the Devil’s Hole gang.  No women to be brought into the hideout, and no women to be harmed or even insulted on any job we pulled.  Any woman who was a passenger on a train, or a bank customer, back when we were still pullin’ daylight bank robberies, was to be treated, Heyes told us all, with as much courtesy and respect as if she was your mother, or your grandma.”

       “I had good reasons for that,” supplied Heyes.  “If the word had gotten around that we were mistreating women, I expect those small-town sheriffs wouldn’t have had so much trouble scaring up a posse to come after us.  They’d have been shooting to kill, too.  The rules were just common sense.”

       “Yeah, but not everybody saw it that way,” continued Kid.  “We had a new man, name of Jake, with us one time.  We’d stopped the train, and Heyes was busy in the express car, while the rest of the boys moved the passengers off and guarded the crew.  I went back to the second coach to see how that was comin’ along, and just as I got there, I heard a girl scream.  Well, I went up the steps to the end platform as quick as I could, drawin’ my gun in case there was trouble, and I saw Jake, bending over a young lady—a pretty little blonde, she was, couldn’t have been more than seventeen—puttin’ his hand on her dress.  He was pointing his gun at the man who was with her, so the fella couldn’t do anything to help her, and she was pressed back against the side of the coach, tryin’ to get out of Jake’s reach.  I had to be careful how I fired, so as not to hit the passengers or kill Jake, but I managed to plug him right in the … well, in the back pocket of his pants.  He let out a yell and went down, and me and one of the other boys carried him outside and laid him on the ground for Heyes to deal with as soon as he could take the time.”

       In spite of himself, Wellington chuckled.  He would have liked to have seen this.

       “When they told me what happened,” Heyes picked up the story, “I got the money clear of the train, then had the boys lay Jake on his face on the floor of the express car.  I told the engineer that we’d take it kindly if they’d get him to a doctor as soon as they reached the next town, and I said, ‘After that, I don’t care what you do with him—turn him over to the law, or whatever you like.  He’s not part of this gang any more.  We don’t insult women.’  I heard later that’s exactly what they did—took him to a doctor and then turned him over to the town marshal.  One of the train crewmen on our next job told us.”  He smiled with remembered satisfaction.

       “And we didn’t have no more trouble with that kind of thing,” Kid added.

       “We just wanted you to know,” said Heyes, “that we’ve never harmed a woman, or let anybody else do it if we were in a position to stop it.  Just because Paula and I are promised doesn’t mean we’re doin’ things any different now.”

       Wellington nodded.  “All right.  Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.  But considering this is my twin sister we’re speaking of, I felt I had no choice.”

       In an odd, tense voice, Kid replied, “Neither have I.”  Before Heyes could move to stop him, he hit straight out from the shoulder, knocking Wellington back against a stall partition, from whence he staggered and slid to the floor.  At his partner’s reproachful look, Kid shrugged and turned his attention back to his opponent, bringing his fists up in case he had to defend himself.

       Giving his hand to his prospective brother-in-law, Heyes helped him up.  “Don’t take that wrong,” he began.  “Kid does get a little touchy sometimes.”

       “I shan’t take it wrongly,” Paul assured him.  He turned to Curry.  “I’m not going to retaliate.  You were right, and I was wrong.  Forgive me for doubting your honour.”

       Taken aback, Kid replied readily, “Yeah, uh, sure.”

       Wellington turned to offer his hand.  “Heyes?  I’m sorry.  Will you forgive the insult?”

       His anger evaporating, Heyes took the outstretched hand, surprised and pleased.  “Sure, that’s O.K.  But I got a question.  You told me you approved, said you thought I was the right man for her.  Why would you suspect me of somethin’ like that?  If you really thought that about me, you shouldn’t have agreed to me courtin’ her.  What’s going on?”

       “Ah.  I was rather wondering that myself.  I’m not usually so inept.  Let me see if I can explain.  My sister is a very self-possessed, strong-minded young woman.  She has very definite ideas about how she likes to do things.  She’s not known you very long, and yet just last night, at supper, I saw her giving you more respect, more deference—I suppose I could even say submission—than she has ever accorded to any man, even me or our father.  And he had the right to direct her actions.  I saw her start to say something which you apparently preferred that she refrain from telling me, and you stopped her with just a look.”

       “Oh.”  Heyes looked a little ashamed of himself.

       “It’s almost as if she were a stranger.  I’ve never seen her behave that way in my life.  I suppose you could say that frightened me.  I certainly spoke unwisely and without thinking, and I owe you both an apology.”

       “You’ve already apologized,” Heyes reminded him.  “I guess I shouldn’t have stopped her, because she was gonna tell you about how she could trust us to keep her safe all the way to Estes Park.  Anyway, forget it.  She’s waiting for us over in the hotel, probably wondering what happened.” 

       “That reminds me,” said Wellington, drawing the letter he had written from his pocket and handing it to Heyes.  “This is for you.  It will introduce you both to Ellen Ramsay, our foster mother, now acting as our housekeeper, so she’ll know that everything’s all right about your staying at the ranch.”

       Heyes took the envelope.  “Thanks.  I was wondering how we were gonna deal with that.  Just one thing, though.  I suppose she knows your handwriting, but … what’s to prevent her thinking that I wrote this myself, to try and take advantage of her?  She’s likely to be pretty suspicious of me, showing up and saying Paula and I are planning to be married.”

       “She’ll know.”

       “How?” asked Kid.

       “Because,” Paul said, amused, “neither of you has the Gaelic.”  He motioned to the envelope.  “Read it.  You’ll see what I mean.”     

>        Carrizo Springs, Texas, January 28th∫81
> 
>       My dear Ellen,
> 
>       This letter will introduce Mr Joshua Smith and Mr Thaddeus Jones, who are escorting Paula home from Texas while I attend to business in Laredo.  I expect to be home by the end of February. 
> 
>       Paula and Mr Smith have entered into an informal betrothal, the details of which she will no doubt be happy to tell you in her own way.  He and his partner are accordingly to be treated as family.  They may be lodged in the east wing near my bedchamber.  You will, I know, take care to chaperone her as is usual when we have house guests.
> 
>       _Na bitheadh eagal ort, a dh’Eilidh.  Am fear dorcha, ‘s e am fear ceart a th’ann.  ‘S e an duine air an robh i a’ feitheamh.  Agus tha gràdh mór an cridhe agaibh air a chéile_ _._
> 
> I rely on you to make them welcome at the ranch until I return. 
> 
>                                                       _le deagh dhùrachd_ ,
> 
>     
> 
>                                                                   Paul A. Wellington

      

       Heyes read through the letter, staring at the tantalizing Gaelic words in curiosity and not a little dismay.  He supposed he might be able to get someone—possibly the unknown Mrs. Ramsay—to tell him what they meant, if he applied enough charm to his request.  Meanwhile, he was going to have to stifle his curiosity for over two weeks.  He looked up with a quick smile.  “I appreciate the letter.  You want her to like us, and that’s what we need.”

       “That was the idea.”  Paul nodded.  “You’ll also need this, to get the right size.”  He reached into an inner pocket and withdrew a tiny leather pouch.  “She usually wears this when we come to Texas, so the men in Laredo will know that she is unavailable, but this year, as it happens, the setting needed repair, so I’ve had it in my pocket.”  He turned his head to see his sister coming down the steps from the hotel verandah as they led their horses to the hitch rail, and quickly passed the leather pouch to Heyes, who just as quickly stowed it in his pocket. 

       Heyes, with his back to the steps, didn’t see her.  He returned the letter to its envelope and put it away in his inner vest pocket.  “I know—you don’t have to tell me—it’s Mrs. Ramsay’s approval I need, more than yours, for this promise arrangement,” he continued.

       “What about Ellen’s approval?” asked Paula, coming up behind him.

       “Well, she’s kind of like a mother to you, isn’t she?  Your brother just referred to her as a foster mother.”

       “That’s true.  You’re thinking that this is just like being taken home to meet my parents, aren’t you?”

       “Well, isn’t it?  I want her to like me—if she doesn’t, you’d be miserable.”

       “Darling, I don’t think you need to worry about that.”  She glanced from one man to another.  “Are we ready to go?  We’d best say good-bye, then, Paul.”  She gave her brother a quick hug.  “We’ll see you at the ranch in a few weeks.  Wire if there’s any trouble.”

       “You do the same.  But I don’t expect you’ll run into any serious trouble.  Joshua and Thaddeus will see you home safely.”

       Heyes held out his hand.  “We’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

       Wellington shook hands with both men and stepped back, allowing Heyes to give the lady a boost into the saddle.  “Good-bye.  _Vaya con Diós_ , as they say here.”

       “Oh, wait a minute,” said Heyes as he settled into his saddle.  “I promised to let Captain Parmalee know how things went between Paula and me.  Could you tell him?”

       “I’ll tell him.”

       “Paul?”  He looked up.  “Tell Erik as well, will you?  Try to get him alone before you do.”  At the look of surprise on her brother’s face, Paula added, “I owe him that courtesy.  He made me an offer, several weeks ago.”

       “Erik Hunter made you an offer of marriage?”  Wellington was astonished, considering what he knew of the flamboyant Dutchman.

       “Yes.  Perhaps he thought it’s what his father wanted, or perhaps there was another reason.  But he needs to know.”

       “Yes, I’d say he does.  I’ll handle it.  Have a good trip.”  He watched the three riders until they reached the end of the street, then went back into the hotel.

            

* * *

[1] Genesis 24:58, Authorized Version.

[2] Romans 8:28, Authorized Version.


End file.
